


don't want no other shade of blue but you

by silver (rosegolds)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Antarctica, Astrophysicist Yoo Kihyun, Biologist Lee Minhyuk, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, Sharing a Bed, and for a moment, as a treat, side jookyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28567407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegolds/pseuds/silver
Summary: “Okay, but you know aliens don’t like…exist,right?” he says.Kihyun gawks. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. He has been studying space for years. And here, standing in front of him is a wildlife biologist — a tragically cute wildlife biologist, who’s more of a glorified penguin babysitter, Kihyun pettily decides in this moment of sudden rage — telling him that aliens don’texist?Or, Kihyun is an astrophysicist who works in Antarctica and firmly believes that it isnotpetty to declare someone as your arch-nemesis after they tell you they don’t believe in aliens.
Relationships: Lee Minhyuk/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 19
Kudos: 77





	don't want no other shade of blue but you

**Author's Note:**

> seongdae/skku = sungkyunkwan university, a korean uni in collaboration with icecube neutrino observatory
> 
> neutrino = subatomic, electrically neutral particle that travels at the speed of light and comes from the edge of the universe. disclaimer: i know shit all abt science lol
> 
> summer in antarctica is from november to february. winter in antarctica is from march to october.
> 
> amundsen-scott, rothera, and mcmurdo are research stations in antarctica. they’re actually really far from each other so traveling between them the way the characters do in this fic is not realistic at all, but i’m going to pretend that it is for the sake of the fic. also, you cannot enter, leave, or travel within antarctica during the winter, but again i’m going to pretend that you can lol. basically lots of things in this fic (jobs, locations, etc.) are based on reality but i have also taken some liberties. hopefully that doesn’t bother anyone too much!
> 
> title is from ‘hoax’ by taylor swift. i’ve had the title + idea for this fic sitting in my brain for a while now – before evermore came out. and then evermore came out and i almost changed the title to smth from evermore… but i grew so attached to this one (bc i like the meaning – love being abt who you’re willing to go through hard times with) so instead there is another lyric from the evermore album referenced here somewhere :) also this is partially inspired by lorde’s sudden obsession with antarctica… bless her
> 
> ok enough rambling from me, i hope you enjoy !!!

RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY: WINTER-OVER POSITION, ICECUBE NEUTRINO OBSERVATORY

Sungkyunkwan University, South Korea

Open search for postdoctoral scholars (3 positions) and graduate students (2 positions) for IceCube Neutrino Observatory, Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station, Antarctica.

Research focus: neutrino astronomy and particle astrophysics, dealing primarily with the origin of cosmic rays, galactic supernovae, and dark matter.

Work term: October 2020 to October 2021. Graduate students who show a high level of aptitude may extend their work term until October 2022, if they choose.

Application deadline: January 31, 2020. Note that in previous years, the majority of successful applicants applied by the early application date, December 20, 2019. Please complete your application via the SKKU Admissions Portal.

For more information, visit SKKU’s Department of Physics website, or connect with an Admissions Advisor.

We hope to see you there!

_Related posting: Winter-over Position, South Pole Telescope Project _

Truthfully, Kihyun feels a bit guilty for taking the job. Maybe even for applying in the first place.

It doesn’t take much for Kihyun to recall conversations he’d had with his classmates in undergrad. So many of them saw IceCube as the absolute dream job. And while Kihyun had always smiled and agreed during those conversations, the only reason he’d applied at all was because Hoseok, his roommate back at Seongdae, convinced him to take the leap and apply just for the hell of it. Kihyun humoured him because getting in sounded impossible — the program is notoriously competitive, and there was only space for a few astrophysics students from Seongdae.

But to Kihyun’s surprise, he’d barely had the chance to finish reading his acceptance letter before being shoved onto a one-way flight from Seoul to Christchurch to Antarctica, and into a year-long position of detecting neutrinos, surrounded by the coldest climates the Earth has ever endured. IceCube Neutrino Observatory, Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station quickly became his new home.

And while neutrinos are cool and all, Kihyun supposes he’s not particularly passionate about them.

He’s thankful that his research partner is a somewhat familiar face from Seongdae. Changkyun is baby-faced and a couple of years younger than Kihyun, and he has barely started his PhD program, but he’s smart and responsible and keeps up with him, and that’s all Kihyun could ask for.

He’s especially thankful when Changkyun withstands the long line at the galley to grab coffees for the two of them each morning, and silently sets it on Kihyun’s desk. Changkyun is kind and perceptive too, and it’s more than Kihyun could ever ask for.

Kihyun sighs as he takes a sip of his coffee. It’s too early, and he’s taken too big of a sip, and the coffee’s burning hot on his tongue. But at least it wakes him up, he supposes.

It’s a bit unfortunate that Kihyun has travelled so far from home just to sit in front of a computer. The technology he has been working with is amazing, and there’s nothing else like it anywhere on Earth, but he wishes he could touch and feel it up close. The digital optical modules are buried over a thousand metres below the ice, waiting to sense a neutrino. And Kihyun sits idly by his computer at ground level, waiting for it to alert him of the blue light that gets emitted when a neutrino crashes into a proton or neutron.

It’s the perfect environment — the Antarctic ice is tightly compressed, and there’s no light pollution or background radiation. Sometimes the blue light extends over a kilometre. Kihyun’s measurements turn out beautifully every time.

While the neutrino is the most common particle in the universe — aside from the photon — that blue light feels like a bit of an enigma. It’s a rare thing. Since Kihyun had first arrived at IceCube at the beginning of summer, he’s only had the pleasure of seeing it a few times, and he remembers each time vividly. He’s not sure how long it has been since the last one.

Kihyun sighs, pushing against the desk and letting his chair roll back. He rubs his eyes before looking at the computer again. Even after distancing himself, the glow from the computer screen burns his eyes. It has been the same routine every day for what feels like forever — he waits and waits for that blue light, but it never comes.

❄

Something about IceCube makes Kihyun feel like he’d never left college, and in a way, it’s comforting to be somewhere that seems familiar. But it’s also annoying to have come so far just to live the same days all over again. Maybe it’s the stuffy dorms. Maybe it’s the fact that the galley is a spitting image of his college dining hall. Maybe it’s the weekly intramural basketball games. Maybe it’s the fact that Changkyun is dragging him to a weekly intramural basketball game to spy on a cute boy.

“It’s not _spying_ ,” Changkyun insists. “I am respectfully watching him from a distance.”

“You don’t even like basketball,” Kihyun says, trailing behind his friend, trying to find a place to sit at the bleachers.

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Changkyun says.

All day, as Kihyun walked the halls of Amundsen-Scott, he inevitably walked by the weekly bulletin board with the notice about the game.

AMUNDSEN-SCOTT WEEKLY EVENTS

INTRAMURAL BASKETBALL GAMES CONTINUE THIS WEEK

_ Thursday, December 3, 2020, 8pm at Amundsen-Scott Gymnasium. See you there! _

Every time he passed by it, he braced himself for an evening of confusion.

IceCube is small, but not so small that you’d know everyone’s name and face. Kihyun and Changkyun pride themselves in being able to recognize almost every researcher at the station. But this basketball game pours in an onslaught of unfamiliar faces. It’s a weekly thing for Amundsen-Scott to play against another research station, Rothera. Each week the two stations rotate — this week the game is at Amundsen-Scott, next week it’ll be at Rothera. It’s all in good fun, but Kihyun knows people can get really into it. When he peers around the gymnasium, he finds even some of his quieter colleagues leaping out of their seats to shout profanities.

And now, a few minutes into the game, Kihyun squints towards the court. Just as he’d predicted, he’s not doing a stellar job of keeping up, especially with all the new faces on the opposing team to keep track of.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Kihyun asks, leaning into his friend.

“Not a clue,” Changkyun says. “But look at my cute boy — he’s jersey number eight.”

Kihyun spots jersey number eight immediately. The face registers as extremely familiar. “Number eight, isn’t that Lee Jooheon?” he asks. “I think he’s working on the South Pole Telescope Project.”

Changkyun looks back at Kihyun with wide eyes. “He is? Why haven’t we seen him before? The Telescope Project is in the same lab as us!”

Kihyun shrugs. “I’ve seen him plenty of times. But I swear he’s like, nocturnal or something — he always comes to the lab when I’m on my way out.”

Changkyun buries his face into his hands and groans dramatically. “You mean I’ve been just missing him every god damn day I’ve been here?”

Kihyun giggles and turns his attention back to the court. Number eight is pretty cute, Kihyun thinks. Perhaps some of the magic is lost to the fact that he’s all sweaty and red in the face.

Kihyun scans the players some more. By now, he’s able to recognize all the Rothera players’ faces — and he feels a bit smug about it. He’s always been good at remembering faces. But the smugness turns out to be short-lived when his gaze lands upon a face he hadn’t quite memorized yet.

Kihyun raises his eyebrows. Absolutely none of the magic is lost on this one.

Upon seeing him, Kihyun decides he just _has_ to know who this player is. He nudges Changkyun in the ribs, earning a whine back. “Changkyun, who’s that? Number eleven?” he asks.

Kihyun watches with curious eyes as Changkyun searches the court for jersey number eleven, and then frowns. “Kihyun, he’s on the Rothera team, how am I supposed to know?” Changkyun says. “I didn’t even know Jooheon existed until now and he works _here_.”

“He’s a good player.”

Changkyun hums in response, evidently not listening anymore and resuming his scheduled thirsting over Jooheon. Kihyun huffs and sinks into his seat.

Jooheon’s the star player, from what Kihyun can tell, but something about number eleven has caught Kihyun’s interest in an iron grip. Kihyun watches in awe as number eleven runs a hand through his hair, pushing it up and off his sweaty forehead. He watches as number eleven downs half a bottle of water, a few stray droplets running down his cheeks and jaw, on a face that’s both chiseled and soft at the same time. He even watches as number eleven stops to tie his shoe, watching as his long fingers clutch the laces.

Eventually, the buzzer sounds and pulls Kihyun out of his thoughts. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him — he’s usually not one to stare.

But something about number eleven is just fascinating. Kihyun tells himself it’s just because he doesn’t recognize him, and there’s some novelty to that. Living in Antarctica means seeing the same people every single day, and it’s been a while since he’s seen a new face. But really… number eleven is enthralling. He’s mysterious purely for the fact that Kihyun doesn’t know who he is, but everything else about his aura is so bright and warm and inviting. And Kihyun isn’t blind — number eleven is _cute_. Really fucking cute.

Changkyun snorts. “Who are you drooling at?” he says, and then immediately looks alarmed. “Don’t say Jooheon, I already called dibs on him.”

“I’m not drooling at anyone,” Kihyun says, not taking his eyes off the court. The game is winding down now, and the players of the two opposing teams are exchanging smiles and high fives and pats on the back. Number eleven throws an arm around Jooheon.

The sight feels like an opportunity, and Kihyun doesn’t want to miss it. He jumps up and tugs on Changkyun’s arm. “You know what? Why don’t we go say hi to your cute boy?” he says. “He kinda knows me — I’ll introduce you!”

Before Changkyun can protest any more than his current incoherent babbling, Kihyun is pulling Changkyun along behind him. He skips down the stairs with Changkyun stumbling at his heels.

“Jooheon!” Kihyun calls out, his grip on Changkyun’s hand tightening. Changkyun squirms for half a second before giving up.

“Oh! Hey Kihyun,” Jooheon says, sending a wave in his direction.

“You know Changkyun, right?” Kihyun says, jogging up to him and the elusive number eleven. “He works at IceCube with me.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around,” Jooheon says, holding out his hand to give Changkyun a handshake. “I’m Jooheon, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Kihyun has to give a soft push to Changkyun’s back to get him to accept Jooheon’s hand, and stifles a laugh in the process.

“I’m Minhyuk,” number eleven says, extending his hand to Kihyun for a handshake as well. But not before letting his gaze trail over Kihyun’s body, head to toe.

Kihyun catches his grip, throat nearly drying up. “I’m Kihyun. You’re stationed at Rothera?”

Number eleven — _Minhyuk_ — nods. “Yeah, I work at the Bonner lab.”

Changkyun’s eyes brighten up at that, awkwardness dissolving. “Ooh! You study penguins?”

Kihyun scoffs. “Changkyun, I’m sure there’s more to Antarctic wildlife than _penguins_ — ”

“Actually yeah,” Minhyuk says. “I mean, yes, you’re right, there _is_ more to Antarctic wildlife than just penguins. But personally, my research focuses on the penguins.”

“That’s so cool!” Changkyun says, clapping his hands together. “And sounds way easier to explain. Trying to explain what IceCube is to my relatives who don’t know that astrology and astronomy are two different words is _impossible_ — one time I told my aunt that I’m studying astrophysics, and she just told me she’s a Libra.”

Minhyuk laughs. “As someone who _does_ know that astrology and astronomy are two different words, I’d love to have it explained to me,” Minhyuk says. He’s saying it in response to Changkyun, but his gaze remains on Kihyun.

“Oh, we uh. Observe neutrinos,” Kihyun says, with none of the suaveness he was aiming for. “I guess it’s in the name — IceCube Neutrino Observatory. Neutrinos come from the edge of the universe. We can learn about the objects — or events — that the neutrinos originated from. So yeah, that’s why we’re observing them.”

“That’s cool,” Minhyuk says, sounding genuinely enthusiastic. “So, like, what are you trying to find?”

Kihyun rubs the back of his neck. He suddenly feels seventeen again, a typical movie scene where the shy nerd is talking to the popular jock. And it’s all the more ridiculous because he’s about to explain what’s essentially the most important research he’s ever done in his life and he’s feeling hesitant about it for some reason. He feels Changkyun’s elbow nudge his side as if to say _please make our job sound interesting_.

“Ah, we’re not trying to find anything in _particular_ I guess — we just explore and take what we can get,” Kihyun says. “Whatever we can learn about supernovas, cosmic rays, dark matter, and all that. And to be honest, I’ve wanted to see proof of extra-terrestrial life since I was a kid.”

Minhyuk laughs suddenly at that, nearly barking it out. Kihyun raises an eyebrow at the unexpected outburst.

“Yeah, right,” Minhyuk says.

Kihyun’s forehead creases. “Um… I’m being for real, that’s really what we study at the observatory — ”

“I mean the aliens part,” Minhyuk says. Kihyun doesn’t understand what’s so funny. And to Kihyun’s growing irritation, Minhyuk laughs a little more.

“You think I’m lying about wanting to see aliens?”

“I’m sure you did want to see aliens when you were a kid,” Minhyuk says between his giggles. “It’s just the fact that you want to see them _now_. You know, as an adult.”

Kihyun and Changkyun exchange a look. Kihyun glances at Jooheon too, and even he looks lost.

Minhyuk’s laughter slowly dies down, as if he’s finally noticed that he’s the only one laughing, while the others are staring back at him in confusion. He blinks between Kihyun, Changkyun, and Jooheon.

Minhyuk clears his throat, pausing before speaking again. “Okay, but you know aliens don’t like… _exist_ , right?” he says.

Kihyun gawks. Just like that, the magic is lost. Vanished into thin air, slipping out of Kihyun’s grasp.

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. Kihyun has been observing neutrinos for months, studying space for years. And here, standing in front of him is a _wildlife biologist_ — a tragically cute wildlife biologist, who’s more of a glorified penguin babysitter, Kihyun pettily decides in this moment of sudden rage — telling him that aliens don’t _exist?_

“I’m sorry, but,” Kihyun says, closing his eyes in disbelief. “Did you just say that aliens don’t exist?”

“Yeah, ‘cos they don’t,” Minhyuk says. He tries to laugh again as he looks back and forth between the three men standing in silence in front of him, but it sounds noticeably more awkward this time. “Wait, do you seriously think aliens are real? All three of you?”

“Dude, you’re talking to three astrophysicists,” Jooheon says. “Of course we think aliens are real.”

Minhyuk opens his mouth and shuts it, clearly at a loss for words. His eyebrows furrow and he just blinks between the three of them again.

“You really don’t think there’s _any_ life outside of Earth?” Kihyun says. “Nothing? Not even like, fucking plants? Microorganisms? Aren’t you a scientist?”

By the way Changkyun’s shifting awkwardly behind him, Kihyun can tell his brain to mouth filter — or lack thereof — is getting the best of him. But at the same time, the fact that he’s even having this discussion with someone who’s supposedly smart enough to work at Rothera is baffling.

“I’m a scientist, not a sci-fi novelist,” Minhyuk says.

The air is silent again for a moment, before Jooheon fills it, clearly trying to ease the tension. “I mean, Minhyuk studies penguins — what does he know, right?” he says with a laugh.

But it’s to no avail. The other three glance back at Jooheon, expressions unchanged. So, Jooheon hastily tries another approach. “Guys, why don’t we head back to the dorms? Mr. Son needs us in early tomorrow morning.”

“He does?” Kihyun says. “Jooheon, you’re not even on the same — ”

“He’s right,” Changkyun pipes up, grabbing Kihyun’s arm. “It was nice meeting you, Minhyuk. We’ll see you at the next game?”

Minhyuk smiles. “Of course,” he says.

Kihyun’s not entirely sure why they’re leaving, or why Jooheon had said that about Mr. Son when it isn’t even the slightest bit true, but getting the hell out of there before smoke starts to come out of his ears is probably for the best.

Minhyuk touches the back of Kihyun’s arm before he’s fully turned around, and softly adds, “No hard feelings about the aliens thing, right?”

Kihyun tries to keep his tone cordial, but it comes out more monotone than anything else. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“Good,” Minhyuk says. “I’ll see you around?”

Kihyun gives him a curt nod before turning back to Changkyun, who looks ready to bolt out of the gymnasium at light speed.

Once they’re out in the hallway, and Minhyuk and Jooheon are out of earshot, Changkyun tugs on Kihyun’s sleeve.

“What the hell was that?” Changkyun hisses. “You did not need to get that defensive about the aliens thing. You were embarrassing me in front of Jooheon!”

Kihyun frowns. “How was I embarrassing you? Jooheon agreed with me,” he hisses back. “And you _know_ how strongly I feel about aliens.”

“Is it really that serious?”

“Changkyun. Don’t tell me you’re entertaining the idea of aliens not being real.”

Changkyun rolls his eyes. “Of course not. But you’re gonna scare Minhyuk away if you act like that,” he says. “And I know you subconsciously don’t want to scare him away. Because I know you thought he was hot.”

Kihyun takes a step back, opening his mouth just to clamp it shut in surprise. “What the hell? I did not.”

Changkyun scoffs. “You were literally staring at him the entire game.”

“He had the ball a lot! I had to look at him. I had no choice,” Kihyun insists, watching as Changkyun tries to stifle a laugh.

“He did not have the ball a lot, but I appreciate you trying,” Changkyun says, patting Kihyun on the shoulder and walking past him to open his dorm door. “Go to bed. Mr. Son wants us up early.”

“You know Jooheon made that up, right?” Kihyun calls back.

“Yeah, because he was embarrassed!” Changkyun says from the doorway. “So you admit it then? Jooheon was embarrassed and had to give us an escape route?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes and opens his own dorm door. “Whatever, Changkyun.”

Kihyun doesn’t realize how tired he has actually gotten until he’s staring at his exhausted reflection as he’s brushing his teeth. He supposes the anger of being told that aliens aren’t real has given him enough adrenaline and energy to make it through the night without a single yawn.

When his back finally hits his stiff mattress, he’s tired, but the worry that Changkyun had been right, that he _had_ overreacted, clouds his thoughts.

Kihyun frowns at the ceiling. He’s an astrophysicist. Space is important to him. Summing up all the hours he has spent on it — all the studying he’d done at Seongdae, and all the studying he’d done to get into Seongdae in the first place — Kihyun would consider studying space to be his life’s work. And it’s not wrong to feel protective over that, right?

But maybe Minhyuk _is_ a bit cute. Or a lot cute. And maybe it’s in Kihyun’s best interest to _not_ scare away a cute boy.

Kihyun closes his eyes and tries to dispel the thoughts — Minhyuk works at Rothera, it’s not like they’re going to be seeing each other ever again, so long as Kihyun doesn’t attend anymore basketball games. Which he isn’t planning on doing, anyway. He had already told Changkyun that this was a one-time thing.

Before he closes his eyes, he silently thanks the ceiling for entertaining his thoughts. As he falls asleep, Kihyun tries his best not to dream of the oh so annoyingly cute wildlife biologist who doesn’t believe in aliens, and tells himself he’s doing an okay job at it. 

❄

Over the course of the next few days, Kihyun finds himself remembering the cursed aliens conversation with the _penguin guy_ from Rothera more often than he’d like to admit. As he’s clacking away at his keyboard, making calculations, or writing up reports, Kihyun can just hear the words echoing against his skull.

_You know aliens don’t exist, right?_

He tells himself that it just feels memorable because it was different. Over the past few months that Kihyun had been stationed at Amundsen-Scott, he’d curated a comfortable routine for himself, and the experience of meeting Minhyuk was just a wrench in the gears of his daily life, and that’s the only reason it sticks out to him. Every morning Kihyun wakes up at ass o’clock in the morning, brushes his teeth before his mind knows he’s awake and can’t convince him to go back to sleep, and goes in to work to find the coffee that Changkyun has lovingly placed on the corner of his desk. He stares at the computer until his eyes ache, tries to get up and out of his chair every hour to stretch his stiffened muscles, and always makes sure to take a break for lunch. In his moments of free time after work, he tries to get in a workout as often as possible, and he likes to visit the library, or sometimes the music room. It’s his routine, and though it makes the days feel like they’re blurring together, he likes sticking to it. And the fact that Minhyuk sticks out, clear as ever, doesn’t mean anything.

An important part of this routine is visiting each facility — the bathrooms, the galley, the gym, everything — at the right time so that it’s not too busy, so that he can maximize the enjoyment and privacy he could possibly get there. This is especially crucial for the galley, because it’s the one place that every single Amundsen-Scott employee attends daily. Kihyun and Changkyun always have lunch a little earlier than everyone else, to make sure they beat the rush.

But today, Changkyun seems to have other plans. Plans that involve the cute basketball boy that Changkyun can’t seem to shut up about.

“You want to go later?” Kihyun says, forehead creasing at the suggestion. “But we always have lunch at this time.”

“I know, but,” Changkyun says, shoulders slumping. “Every time we go, the galley is fucking deserted.”

“Isn’t that the point? To go early so we can eat in peace?”

Changkyun huffs. “How am I supposed to run into Jooheon if we always go to lunch when no one’s there?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes. “I should’ve known this was about him.”

“Come on, Kihyun,” Changkyun whines. “He’s cute. I wanna see him. I’d text him if we had phone service on this godforsaken chunk of ice, but we don’t, and I’m not desperate enough to start sending him emails yet.”

“So, you’re planning on just running into him by chance — but it’s not actually by chance because you’re actively seeking it out?”

“Kihyun, come on. Can we just go? I’m not above begging. You know I have no dignity,” Changkyun says, and he’s halfway to the floor to get on his knees.

“Okay, enough. Get up. We can go to lunch in an hour,” Kihyun says, grabbing Changkyun’s arms before he reaches the floor. “But if they’re out of _any_ of my favourite ice cream toppings, you owe me.”

Kihyun barely makes it a step into the galley before his eyes turn wide and he’s freezing in his tracks. Changkyun, who’s trailing behind him, startles when Kihyun suddenly turns around. Kihyun hastily puts his hands on Changkyun’s shoulders.

“Changkyun, I’m asking you as a friend — no, I’m telling you, we have to leave right now,” Kihyun says, voice low.

Changkyun blinks. “What? Why?”

“Penguin guy is here. And he’s sitting with your cute basketball boy.”

“Penguin guy? Who, Minhyuk?” Changkyun says, and Kihyun nods. Changkyun tries to peer into the galley, tries to look past Kihyun, but Kihyun’s grip on his shoulders is too strong.

“This is why we can’t fuck with our routine, Changkyun. It throws off the whole balance of the universe. We go to lunch at a different time than usual and some guy from Rothera is in the galley. _Our_ galley,” Kihyun says. “You cannot make me go talk to penguin guy.”

Changkyun sighs. He shoves Kihyun’s hands off his shoulders and finally gets the chance to look into the galley and see for himself. Lo and behold, Kihyun is right — Jooheon and Minhyuk are sitting beside each other at one of the tables, talking and sharing a plate of fries. Kihyun follows Changkyun’s line of sight to find Minhyuk laughing at something Jooheon’s saying, throwing his head back in the process.

Kihyun makes a face. Jooheon making friends with the enemy? It’s not even like Kihyun and Jooheon are the closest of friends or anything, but to Kihyun, it’s the principle of it — as a fellow astrophysicist, Jooheon should at least be on his side.

“Look, I get it,” Changkyun says. “I get your thing about aliens. Hell, I agree with you. But you’re also being extremely petty about it.”

Kihyun gasps, and it’s just a tad too dramatic for Changkyun to take seriously. “I am not being petty! It is not petty to declare someone as your arch-nemesis after they tell you they don’t believe in aliens,” he says. “He laughed in my face, Changkyun. I’m an astrophysicist! It’s insulting!”

Changkyun rolls his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kihyun. Your arch-nemesis? What are you, a cartoon villain?”

Kihyun groans. “Can’t you go talk to Jooheon alone? Do I have to come?”

“I can’t! I’m too awkward,” Changkyun whines. “Can you just put this — feud? Or whatever you’ve called this one-sided bullshit — can’t you put it on pause and come sit with me and Jooheon?”

“Fine,” Kihyun agrees, and begrudgingly so. “But for the record, it’s not one-sided because he started it. And I still hate him.”

“Sure, Kihyun,” Changkyun says. “I’ll make sure to remind you of how bad you hate him when you finally admit you wanna get in his pants.”

Kihyun gasps again, and it’s even more dramatic than the last time. “Why do you keep saying shit like that?”

“Because I know you. And I have eyes. And I can see how you look at him.”

At that, Kihyun doesn’t have the chance to retort back, because Changkyun is pulling Kihyun along behind him into the galley. Jooheon waves when he sees the two of them approaching. As they make their way over, Kihyun tries to give a smile — mostly directed towards Jooheon — but it looks more like he’s baring his teeth. Kihyun begrudgingly slumps into the seat across from Minhyuk as Jooheon and Changkyun are exchanging greetings.

“Hey,” Minhyuk says with a soft voice.

Kihyun glances beside him to find Changkyun and Jooheon somehow already engrossed in a conversation. So, making conversation with Minhyuk seems like the most obvious thing to do.

“The food here is like, a million times better than what we get fed at Rothera,” Minhyuk says.

Kihyun nods. “Yeah, I love the food here. They have ice cream stocked every day.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen. “You’re serious? I’m willing to transfer here just for access to daily free ice cream,” he says.

“What are you doing here?” Kihyun asks, not wanting to talk to _penguin guy_ about the perpetual ice cream stock he holds so dear to his heart.

“Having lunch with you.”

Kihyun sighs. “What are you doing _here_. At Amundsen-Scott. You don’t work here.”

Minhyuk tilts his head, motioning to the seat next to him. “To hang out with Jooheon.”

“Don’t you have work to do? Penguins to attend to?”

Minhyuk almost laughs, but not quite — it’s more of an exhale through his nose. “Can’t I take a lunch break?”

“Can’t you take a lunch break at your own station?”

Minhyuk ignores the question. “Anyways, how are you?” he asks. “What’d you do today? See any aliens yet?”

Kihyun narrows his eyes. Minhyuk’s saying it with a playful smile, and there doesn’t seem to be much real bite to it. But for Kihyun, it’s the fact that Minhyuk is bringing this up again in the first place that feels just a bit snide. Kihyun decides that Changkyun had been wrong, this isn’t a one-sided feud — because Minhyuk is stoking the flames right now, isn’t he?

Kihyun presses his lips into a line. “No, I didn’t see any aliens,” he says dryly. “I stared at a computer screen all morning, waited for a blue light, and it never came. And after lunch, I’ll be going back to do the same thing for the rest of the day. And then, I’ll come back in to work tomorrow to do it all over again.”

Minhyuk raises an eyebrow. “Blue light?”

“When a neutrino crashes into a proton or neutron inside the atom, there’s a nuclear reaction. It’s called Cherenkov Radiation,” Kihyun tells him. “It produces a blue light. My job is to detect it and record it. It never comes.”

“How does this relate to aliens?” Minhyuk asks.

Kihyun blinks. “Why do you want to know about aliens?” he asks. “I thought you didn’t believe in them.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “I don’t, but,” he says. “I wanted to ask about your job. And if you and aliens are a package deal, then so be it.”

Kihyun’s forehead creases. He doesn’t really know how to take what he’s hearing. It sounds pretty neutral, maybe even sweet, like it could be crossing the blurred line between courteous but insincere small talk and genuine interest — but Kihyun’s not sure which to read it as. If this conversation is going to end in him being taunted for thinking — scratch that, _knowing_ — that aliens exist, then he’d rather not hear it.

“Well, neutrinos come from the edge of the universe. And they travel in an unobstructed path from there to here. So, we study the origin of that path — like I said yesterday, that usually means supernovas, black holes, dark matter. All of the violent and least understood events of the universe,” Kihyun explains. “Maybe one day it’ll mean evidence of extra-terrestrial life. But as of now, that’s more of a pipe dream than anything else.”

Minhyuk hums. “You’re smart, though. You’ll find evidence one day, I’m sure,” he says.

Kihyun looks back at Minhyuk with an arched eyebrow. This is the same man that was laughing in his face yesterday for saying aliens exist, and now he’s saying Kihyun would be able to find proof of them one day? Kihyun’s back to where he was just moments ago — not really knowing how to take Minhyuk’s words, but still too committed to his cartoon-villain-esque tunnel vision to take them well.

“You called supernovas and stuff ‘violent and least understood.’” Minhyuk continues, to which Kihyun nods. “Hm. I think that suits you.”

“What does?” Kihyun asks, eyebrows furrowed. “Violence and not understanding things?”

Minhyuk laughs, shaking his head. “I mean studying unpredictable things,” he says. “I just feel like you’d be good at it. Sorting through all that craziness.”

Kihyun hums, somewhat surprised at Minhyuk’s answer, and contemplates a moment before responding. He’d never thought of it that way. “I don’t know if I like the unpredictable-ness,” he admits. “I mean, we do other shit besides waiting for the blue light. But that’s definitely the part that keeps me on my toes, and I just — I get impatient. I like being prepared, and knowing what’s gonna happen. But you can’t be one step ahead of nature.”

“I get what you mean,” Minhyuk says. “But like you said, your fate is in the hands of nature. It’s out of your control, isn’t it? So, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you’d be good at your job.”

Kihyun frowns. “You barely know me,” he says, feeling like he’s just received an empty compliment. “How would you know whether or not I’m good at my job?”

Minhyuk shrugs. “I guess I don’t,” he says. “Maybe I’m wrong. It’s just a feeling.”

Kihyun shifts awkwardly in his seat. He suddenly becomes hyper-aware of how he’d just opened up about his job, and not in the usual way, but rather, how he _feels_ about it. Kihyun doesn’t even talk to Changkyun about stuff like this, and Changkyun’s his research partner. If anyone would be able to relate or understand the frustration, it’d be him. And yet, he’s exploring uncharted territory with _penguin guy_ of all people.

Kihyun’s not sure what’s gotten into to him, and he wonders if this is him letting his defenses down. He tries to shake that idea away, though, because it’s much easier to fall back on his stubbornness. And because he knows he’s right.

“I’ll let myself accept that praise once I’ve found proof of extra-terrestrial life,” Kihyun says. “Which I _will_ find, by the way.”

Minhyuk laughs. “What happened to it being a pipe dream?”

“I’ve just decided that I can’t use that excuse anymore,” Kihyun says with a smug look on his face. “Because I have to prove you wrong. And I _will_. Because I know I’m right.”

Minhyuk sits back in his chair and crosses his arms across his chest, an equally smug smirk appearing on his lips, too. “Evidence of aliens, just for me?” he says. “That sounds very cool, actually. Will you mention me as your inspiration in your award-winning paper about it?”

Kihyun tilts his head. “You think I’ll win awards for it?”

“They’d have to give out awards for proving the impossible, wouldn’t they?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “ _You’re_ impossible.”

“I think the universe has doomed you to be drawn to the impossible, then,” Minhyuk says. “I guess that’s a bit unfortunate.”

At some point, Changkyun and Jooheon must’ve left their table, because now, they’re returning with two trays piled high with food. Kihyun blinks at the sight, wondering how he hadn’t noticed the two of them leaving. He couldn’t have possibly been so absorbed in his conversation with _penguin guy_ that he’d failed to notice his surroundings.

Changkyun slides one of the trays in front of Kihyun, and Kihyun is thankful for two things — one being the food, and the other being the fact that he’s got a reason put an end to his conversation with Minhyuk. He lets Jooheon start talking about something that involves all four of them. Throughout the conversation, Kihyun doesn’t talk directly to Minhyuk anymore, but he swears he can feel Minhyuk’s eyes on him. He tries not to think about it too much, tries to ignore the fact that the tips of his ears are heating up, and just let Jooheon talk to fill the space.

Eventually, Kihyun feels a nudge in his side, from Changkyun, who’s standing up and out of his seat. Kihyun quickly glances at the clock on the far wall of the galley and realizes that it’s nearly time for the two of them to return to work. Though there isn’t one, Kihyun feels like he’s being saved by the bell. Minhyuk’s gaze has just gotten more and more intense as the conversation had gone on — at least, that’s what Kihyun’s able to deduct without looking directly at him — and it’s causing an unidentified feeling bubble in Kihyun’s chest.

“That’s our cue, I guess,” Kihyun says, standing up as well. “We’ve got to head back to the lab.”

“To find evidence of alien life for me?” Minhyuk says. “I’m honoured that you’re getting to it so quickly. You’re very dedicated.”

Kihyun scoffs. “You’re not that high on my priority list. I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

A pause. “I’ll just have to wait for you, then,” Minhyuk says once Kihyun’s got his back to him, about to walk away.

“I’m a man of my word,” Kihyun says, and gives one last glance over his shoulder before leaving. Minhyuk’s smiling back at him, and it feels like less than a smirk this time. It’s a smile that seems to reach his eyes.

❄

It’s an hour before most people at Amundsen-Scott go to the galley for dinner, which means it’s the hour when the music room is deserted. Kihyun doesn’t know why this is the most optimal hour or why it fits into his schedule so perfectly, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

The Amundsen-Scott music room is a near disaster-zone — the walls of the tiny room are lined with a dozen guitars and a few ukuleles, there’s a drum set that is absolutely not made to live in such a small space, and a couple of keyboards placed haphazardly. Miscellaneous sheet music is littered all over the room, most of it abandoned by workers from previous seasons. But it’s quiet, and it’s empty, and Kihyun is thankful for that.

Kihyun grabs an acoustic guitar off of its mount on the wall, and takes a seat at the piano bench with his back to the door, because it’s the only place _to_ sit. Kihyun had first started playing guitar back at Seongdae, and he’d like to think he’d gotten pretty good by now. In terms of playing material, Amundsen-Scott mostly only has songbooks filled with classical and jazz pieces. And while he’d really only started playing guitar so he could be that one guy that says, “anyway, here’s Wonderwall” at a party or around the campfire, these more difficult songs make him feel good about his playing ability, like he’s a professional.

Kihyun sets one of the songbooks he frequents onto the music stand, and starts to play a song he’d practiced many times before. He often starts with a song he’s already played a hundred times and mastered, just to make sure he starts his hour of practice on the right foot.

The song isn’t easy, by any means, but it feels easy now, as his fingers have earned the muscle memory required to play the piece without any mistakes. When Kihyun gets to the end of the song, he smiles to himself. He knows he’s a good player now, but he hasn’t let anyone hear him play before — aside from his college roommate, Hoseok, who only heard because they lived in the same space. Kihyun had quickly realized that at this rate, he’d never be the guy that says “anyways, here’s Wonderwall,” because he plays purely for the love of music, and not anything else. And also because he’d never bothered to learn Wonderwall, because he’s not too keen on that song, anyways.

When Kihyun’s concentration latches onto something, it’s near impossible for him to let go. So, he plays, and his ears are hyper focused on the sound ringing out from his instrument. But then, he hears something that makes his focus come crashing down.

“Kihyun?”

Kihyun whips around in his seat, nearly smashing the neck of the guitar against the piano along the way. He looks to where the voice is coming from with wide eyes, and nearly explodes when he finds the source of it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kihyun asks.

Standing in the doorway of the music room is none other than _penguin guy_ and Kihyun’s not sure he’s surprised. It’d only been a week or so since Kihyun’s last run-in with him, and the universe doesn’t seem to want to give him a break.

Kihyun feels a flush start at his cheeks and flood over his entire body. He feels so embarrassed — like playing guitar is going to become another thing Minhyuk’s going to make fun of him for. And Kihyun can’t have that — playing guitar is the one thing he has for himself, and he can’t let someone he barely knows ruin that for him.

Kihyun sputters, and quickly turns back around. He gets to work, shuffling his songbook closed. It’s an extremely old book, so some of the pages aren’t even attached anymore, and Kihyun frantically shoves them back in between the covers. “Why are you here?” he asks again. “And how long have you been standing there?”

“I heard music,” Minhyuk says, sounding so nonchalant about it. “I was just following the sound, and I ended up here. I didn’t think it would be coming from you, though.”

Kihyun huffs and faces Minhyuk again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just didn’t think you were into music.”

“Well, I am,” Kihyun says, clutching the songbook in his hands, sweat probably transferring from his palms to the aging paper. The guitar is nearly falling out of his lap now. He’s entirely caught off guard, and floundering because of it.

Minhyuk laughs. “I can see that,” he says. “You sounded good.”

“What?”

“Your playing, it sounded good,” Minhyuk repeats. “Actually, you sounded amazing. So many guys back in college would say they could play guitar, and all they could play was like, fucking Wonderwall.”

Kihyun nods dumbly. “I actually can’t play Wonderwall,” he admits.

Minhyuk laughs again, and the smile that gets left behind is taking up his entire face. “You’re so funny, Kihyun,” he says.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s just that — you can’t play Wonderwall, but you could play _that?_ Whatever that complicated classical shit was?”

Kihyun shrugs, and purses his lips, trying to mask his smile. “I never bothered to learn,” he says. “I don’t even like that song.”

“Imagine you’re at a party, or whatever, and someone’s like ‘hey, can you play Wonderwall?’ and you’re like ‘no, I can only play this’ and it’s like, fucking Beethoven or something — ”

As Minhyuk rambles, Kihyun takes a second to look at him, really look at him. Minhyuk’s hair is ruffled and sitting softly atop his head. When he smiles, he shows all of his teeth. He talks with his hands a lot. His voice cracks when he tries to talk after he’s just finished laughing. There’s something just so, perfectly imperfect about him.

Kihyun nearly jolts at his own thought, like he’s horrified his brain would even produce such a thing, and Minhyuk’s looking back at him expectantly.

Minhyuk must’ve said something, and Kihyun has obviously missed it entirely. But he’d rather die than ask Minhyuk to repeat himself, so he just says, “You still haven’t told me why you’re here. At Amundsen-Scott.”

“I was looking for Jooheon — we were gonna hang out.”

“Don’t you have friends at your own station?”

“Everyone at Rothera is so boring,” Minhyuk whines, and his shoulders fall limp. “I’d rather hang out with Jooheon. Or Changkyun. Or even you!”

Kihyun gives him a look. “Even me?” he asks, but it comes out so flat it doesn’t even sound like a question.

Minhyuk smirks. “You’re interesting. You play guitar. And you believe in aliens,” Minhyuk says.

Kihyun decides not to comment on that, because he _really_ doesn’t want to talk about aliens — and he winces a little at that thought, because he loves talking about aliens. He’s never passed up on an opportunity to talk about aliens.

Kihyun exhales through his nose. “Jooheon’s still at the Telescope Project lab,” he tells Minhyuk, and then quickly glances at the clock on the wall. “But he should be finished up soon.”

Minhyuk hums. “Do you usually play for people?”

“What?”

“The guitar. Like, do you usually let other people hear you play?”

Kihyun’s face turns red, and just as he’d recovered from the last full-body flush. “Not really,” he mumbles lamely.

Minhyuk’s forehead creases. “Really?” he asks. “You really are good, though — it sounded so pretty, seriously. You should play for other people more often.”

Kihyun looks down. “It’s kind of just for me,” he says. “I just play for myself.”

“Oh,” Minhyuk says. “Wow, you’re really keeping your talent hidden from the world, huh?”

Kihyun rubs the back of his beck, and almost smiles. The compliments make him feel good, even though it’s just reaffirming what he already knows. Kihyun knows he’s a good player. But at the same time, he thinks being told he’s a good musician is the kind of compliment that surpasses being told he’s smart or good-looking or something else surface-level like that. Music is his _thing_ , his secret that he only lets out when no one’s watching or listening. A side of him that most people don’t know about. There’s something special about loving something in secret — and Kihyun knows there’s something even more special about sharing it with someone else. Which scares him a little.

“It’s not for the world,” Kihyun says. “It’s for me.”

Soon after that, Minhyuk is letting himself out of the music room, in search for Jooheon. Kihyun stares at the door as it falls shut. He sits motionless on the piano bench, songbook still firmly clutched between his fingers. He opens it and sets it back on the music stand, and flips to a song he doesn’t know very well. It’s one that he still needs a lot of practice on, so he knows it’ll keep his brain occupied to full capacity, preventing him from thinking about anything else. Kihyun’s not sure he trusts his brain with a simpler song — he’s afraid of where it might wander, especially after he’d completely missed what Minhyuk had said because he was too busy wondering if Minhyuk had grown up that beautiful.

❄

To Kihyun’s relief, he doesn’t see Minhyuk at Amundsen-Scott for the rest of that week or the following week — which is how it’s supposed to be, anyway. Minhyuk doesn’t even work here. Kihyun supposes the natural order of the universe has finally been restored.

He tries to ignore the fact that his heart feels a bit weird about the whole thing, and tells himself he’s doing an okay job at it.

He wonders if Changkyun had been right, if Kihyun had been a little too callous about the aliens thing, and during the few unfortunate run-ins that had followed it. But he shrugs it off. This time, he’s _definitely_ never going to see Minhyuk again, so it doesn’t matter. That chapter is closed, in the past, and has crossed its final T. 

But of course, to Kihyun’s luck, the universe seems to be looking for some more chaos, and sending Changkyun as its messenger. He silently wonders when he’d racked up so many bad karma points.

“Kihyun, come on, it’ll be fun!” Changkyun says. “You wouldn’t be going for Minhyuk, you’d be going for me and Jooheon.”

“I am _not_ going to Rothera for the next basketball game,” Kihyun says, folding his arms across his chest. Though it was true that over the last few weeks, he’d gotten closer with Jooheon, and the three of them have been hanging out more often and enjoying it too, Kihyun did not want to risk running into penguin guy again. Which would be inevitable in this situation, as he’s one of the players on the opposing team.

“Kihyun, seriously, why do you care so much?” Changkyun asks. “Like, I keep telling you the aliens thing is not that serious.”

“It’s not just about aliens,” Kihyun huffs. “We just don’t get along. He doesn’t get me. And I don’t get him.”

“Okay, but it this all _started_ because of aliens,” Changkyun reminds him. “Which is a stupid reason to start hating anyone. But even if you did have a legitimate reason — I’ve never seen you go through this much trouble to avoid someone you supposedly hate.”

Kihyun blinks. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… I just feel like normally, you’d just confront the person, right? Or deal with it,” Changkyun says, gesturing vaguely. “Kihyun, you’re not a grudges person. But you’re putting so much energy into this one-sided feud.”

“Why do you keep calling it one-sided?” Kihyun asks. “He hates me too.”

Changkyun raises an eyebrow. “You really think that?”

“Of course. He’s making it pretty obvious.”

“That he _hates_ you?”

“Yes?”

“I feel like you might be getting the wrong idea.”

Kihyun blinks back at Changkyun, falling back a step, feeling entirely at a loss for words. Getting the wrong idea? Kihyun quickly replays all the times they’ve interacted. The way Kihyun sees it, Minhyuk had been constantly popping up and stepping on his toes. The way Kihyun sees it, there’s no other way to see it but that.

Changkyun gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Get dressed. We should grab an early snowmobile and beat the rush,” he says.

Kihyun sighs at the reality that he’s always trying to outrun the inevitable rush that seems to come with every facility at Amundsen-Scott. Oh, how he misses the days of being able to just step out of his apartment and hail a cab, or get food delivered by the fascinating power of mobile apps. He’s impatient and likes running by his own schedule. In Antarctica, you abide by nature’s schedule.

As he’s sitting behind Changkyun on the snowmobile, and trying his best to brace himself against the icy air, Kihyun remembers his conversation with Minhyuk in the galley. _Your fate is in the hands of nature._ He shivers, and tells himself it’s just due to the Antarctic winds biting his cheeks and passing through the thickness of his extreme-weather clothing, and not because there’s a cold and haunting truth to Minhyuk’s words. 

And perhaps he isn’t lying to himself this time, because Kihyun doesn’t stop shivering even as they enter Rothera, and the warm air is rushing in. Changkyun tuts and wraps an arm around Kihyun’s shivering body.

Jooheon and Minhyuk are waiting for them in the lobby. Jooheon gives the two of them a warm smile.

Minhyuk arches an eyebrow when he sees the state Kihyun’s in. “What’s wrong with him?” he asks.

“He’s still recovering from the snowmobile drive over here,” Changkyun says, rubbing Kihyun’s arm in attempts to warm him up. “The wind is extra bad today.”

“I’m not made for the cold,” Kihyun says with a pout.

“Not made for the cold — you live on _Antarctica_ ,” Minhyuk says.

It’s a quick-witted response, and Kihyun’s first instinct is to get annoyed. Though, there’s a flicker of doubt, because there may be the slightest smile on Minhyuk’s lips, and there may not be as much bite to Minhyuk’s words as Kihyun’s playing up in his head. He’d gone through the motions of this before, wondering what Minhyuk really means when he says the things that he does. And for a brief moment, Kihyun considers the idea that Changkyun had planted in his head earlier — that he’d been reading Minhyuk all wrong, that this is all one-sided — but his expression is turning sour before he can take back control over his facial muscles. Like a knee jerk reaction. And by then, he’s committed to it, and he has to follow through.

He rolls his eyes. “Anyways,” Kihyun says with a sour smile. “How are you planning on entertaining us today? The basketball game isn’t for another few hours.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Minhyuk says. “I actually have a very exciting activity planned.”

Kihyun can barely hear his own voice over the sound of his teeth chattering, and not to mention the roaring of rotating helicopter blades. But that doesn’t stop him from talking. “Whales? I thought you said you study penguins,” he says, frowning.

Kihyun had spent the last few weeks dubbing Minhyuk as _penguin guy_ in his head. He supposes _whale guy_ will suffice, but it just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

They’re a bit away from Rothera Station now, standing outside on an icy helicopter runway. Kihyun feels like this is far too much cold air for him to endure in one day. He’s not even sure why he’s humouring Minhyuk at this point, when his fingers feel like they’re about to fall off, but admittedly, he _is_ curious as to why someone who studies whales would need a helicopter.

“I do study penguins. But only sometimes,” Minhyuk tells him. “This is actually my main job — surveying whales.”

Kihyun glances at Changkyun, confusion etched on his face. “Why did you not tell us that before?”

Minhyuk tilts his head, a slight smirk on his lips. “It’s more fun when it’s a surprise.”

While the knowledge of Minhyuk’s actual job is definitely a surprise, the main event is Minhyuk telling them that they’ll be accompanying him on a helicopter ride along the coastline.

After Minhyuk gives them a quick run-down of the route they’ll be taking, Jooheon takes a seat in the back of the helicopter. Changkyun bolts, nearly running Kihyun over trying to get to the helicopter before Kihyun does, and snags the seat next to Jooheon. When Changkyun looks back up after settling down, he sees Kihyun’s face morphing into a sour frown.

“What?” Changkyun asks.

“Fuck you. Now I have to sit with Minhyuk,” Kihyun hisses, thankful that the noise from the helicopter drowns out his voice just enough, so that Minhyuk can’t hear. He clutches at the sides of the doorway with his glove-adorned hands, and he’s trying to keep his annoyance at bay, because he supposes he’s being a _bit_ irrational. But just a bit. There’s still some validity to it, he tells himself.

“I need to sit beside my cute boy!” Changkyun says. “Helicopter rides have like, lowkey romantic vibes.”

Kihyun makes a face. “You can’t say _that_ and expect me to sit beside Minhyuk. Please switch with me.”

Changkyun huffs. “It’s not a big deal. He’ll be driving, he probably won’t even talk to you.”

Kihyun frowns, and crosses his arms across his chest. Minhyuk is climbing into the driver’s seat now, and Kihyun just admits defeat and slides into the passenger seat next to Minhyuk, but not without groaning dramatically first.

Minhyuk adjusts his helmet and headset, and peers around the interior of the helicopter. He grins and asks, “Ready?”

Kihyun glances around too, and in the backseat, diagonal from him, Jooheon is looking out the window, pouting and worriedly creasing his forehead.

“You okay, Jooheon?”

Jooheon gulps. “Heights make me nervous,” he says, sounding timid.

Kihyun gives him a warm smile, and reaches his hand over for Jooheon to hold. Jooheon grabs onto Kihyun’s hand with both of his own, gripping tightly. Even though he feels like his circulation’s getting cut off, Kihyun’s grateful for the feeling of warmth that comes with Jooheon’s hands enclosing his.

“You’ll be fine, I promise,” Kihyun says, giving him a reassuring smile. It seems to help a little, as Jooheon nods weakly, but he still looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

In his peripheral vision, Kihyun can feel Minhyuk’s eyes on him. When he glances over, Kihyun can see Minhyuk’s lips forming the shape of an ‘o.’ Kihyun narrows his eyes, unsure of why he’s being looked at like that, and quickly turns his attention back to Jooheon.

Kihyun turns and places his hands on the headrest, sitting up on his knees in his seat to give Jooheon his full attention.

“We wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t safe, right? Minhyuk’s flown a helicopter like, a million times,” Kihyun reminds him. Jooheon’s looking at him with round doe eyes, and nods again. “So, we’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Jooheon agrees. He exhales and relaxes his shoulders. A soft blush colours his cheeks. “You’re right, Kihyun. Thank you.”

“We’re good now?” Kihyun asks, and both Jooheon and Changkyun are giving him a thumbs-up.

Kihyun sits back down, and warms his hands up with the helicopter’s heater, sighing as the hot air thaws his fingers. He looks around for a moment, because they’re still on the ground, and turns to Minhyuk. “Let’s go?” he says, and it comes out more like a question, because Minhyuk’s still just staring dumbly at him, and doesn’t seem to be planning on moving any time soon.

Minhyuk blinks, and his daze breaks. “Uh, yeah,” he says, and prepares for take-off.

Kihyun stares in wonder as Minhyuk fiddles with the controls, operating them with practiced speed, like it’s the thousandth time he’s doing so, and soon, they’re off. Kihyun holds his breath when he feels the butterflies in his stomach, brought on by the helicopter lifting off of the ice and into the air. He quickly glances to the backseat, and Jooheon is holding onto Changkyun’s arm for dear life, eyes screwed shut. Changkyun fusses over his seatmate, trying to reassure him, and Kihyun smiles. He’s sure the two of them will be fine.

Once they’re done elevating and floating steadily in the sky, Kihyun turns to Minhyuk. “So, what exactly do you do?” he asks. “Like, why does a whale scientist have to know how to pilot a helicopter?”

“We do aerial surveys,” Minhyuk explains. “We fly along the ice-breaker channels along the coast to track whale abundance.”

“Is the whale population going down?” Kihyun asks.

“It varies,” Minhyuk says. “We do the surveys all season so we can get data for all sorts of different ice and sea conditions. We also measure the whales’ distance from the ice edge.”

“The whale population itself isn’t actually the point, I guess, of our work,” Minhyuk continues. “We’re basically studying the whale population as a way to see — and try to predict — how ecosystems in Antarctica are responding to climate change.”

Kihyun hums, gives Minhyuk a “Ah, that’s interesting,” and tries not to feel too jealous — his job _does_ come with interesting science, but the methods are… not exactly riveting. At least, not compared to a helicopter ride along the coast of Antarctica.

Kihyun worries if his tone had come across as him sounding bored, because Minhyuk glances over briefly with a raised eyebrow before returning his eyes to the sky.

“You _do_ believe in climate change, right?” Minhyuk asks.

Kihyun scoffs in disbelief. “What — of course I do,” he sputters, feeling defensive, feeling like Minhyuk had just asked him if he thinks the sky is blue. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Okay, good,” Minhyuk says, with a subtle smirk on his lips.

Kihyun huffs. “However. I think it’s unfair that _I_ believe in climate change, which is essential to _your_ job, but _you_ don’t believe in aliens, which is important to _me_.”

“Well, climate change is real. Aliens are not,” Minhyuk says simply and with a shrug. He’s still smiling, and Kihyun nearly rips his hair out. “Plus, you said it yourself. Proving the existence of aliens isn’t even the point of your job, _and_ it’s near impossible. So, I think we’re still equal.”

Kihyun rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Hey, but you’re gonna prove me wrong, aren’t you?” Minhyuk says, and his grin grows wider.

“Yeah. I’m gonna make sure you eat your words.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Minhyuk says, and in a weird way, it sounds sincere, like he’s genuinely looking forward to being wrong.

Kihyun stares at Minhyuk in awe, like there’s just something about him that Kihyun can’t figure out. It takes a moment before he can tear his eyes away. 

For as long as he can, until Minhyuk resumes what reminds Kihyun of a guided audio tour you’d find at a museum, Kihyun keeps his head angled towards the helicopter window, hoping that doing so will stop himself from smiling back.

Looking out the window, Kihyun feels his chest flutter when his line of sight hits the ground, hundreds of feet below. The snow is sparkling below them, and he’s got a clear view of the ice-breaker channels. Minhyuk had explained to them before take-off that ice-breakers are ships that travel through water that’s covered in ice, breaking the ice and clearing a path for future ships to travel on. The broken ice looks like a thousand shards of glass, parted like the red sea, with the waterways spilling through. The water looks so clear and stunning, the kind of pure nature you’d only find in Antarctica. Kihyun’s eyes widen in awe, and he presses a palm against the glass of the window.

“Guys, doesn’t the view look so pretty?” Kihyun asks, which earns him giggles and agreement from the backseat.

But even when Kihyun breaks his gaze away from the view of the window, that fluttery feeling doesn’t leave his chest, and he can’t figure out why. It stays even after they’ve safely landed on the ground at the end of their sky tour. It stays even after the four of them rush indoors, trying to outrun the wind, and settle in Rothera’s dining hall for a cup of hot chocolate. And when Kihyun gets back to Amundsen-Scott, it has fizzled away, and he already misses the feeling.

❄

Something Kihyun has learned during his stay at Amundsen-Scott is that Antarctica must be, in all of the world, nature in its purest sense. Which means it shows no mercy.

Kihyun supposes the first time he’d faced that reality was when he first stepped out into the cold Antarctic winds, feeling the bitter air reach his bones even through the layers of extreme cold weather clothing he’d adorned. Perhaps it was getting used to having almost no contact with the outside world, because internet connection is limited, and phone reception is nonexistent. Living in Antarctica means isolation, with nothing but the snow and ice to keep you company.

Maybe it’s the fact that it feels like a bleak dystopian neighbourhood, and that Kihyun has never really found it in himself to think of Antarctica as a _home_. He’s merely a guest in Antarctica’s frozen hearth, never fully welcome. As if the Antarctic winds would one day chase him out.

It’s now a few weeks later, and after a terrible night’s sleep, Kihyun is stumbling into the galley a bit later than usual. Which means he hasn’t managed to beat the morning rush, and the galley is packed with people, all shuffling around, half awake and in search for caffeine. Kihyun isn’t entirely sure, since he’s still feeling drowsy, but the buzz of the galley seems louder than usual, even a little uneasy.

From the doorway, Kihyun can see just how long the line is, and sighs at the sight. But he’ll have to suck it up. He’d promised Changkyun that he’d grab their coffees this time.

A familiar face waves at him from a nearby table. It’s Jooheon, and he’s not wearing his usual bright smile.

“Jooheon?” Kihyun says. “You okay?”

“Have you checked the alerts since the satellite went up this morning?” Jooheon asks.

Kihyun shakes his head and sits down at the seat across from Jooheon. “No, I slept in. Did something happen?”

Jooheon shifts over in his chair so that Kihyun can see the big television screen on the wall. “Dude, there was a huge fire at the Bonner lab last night. The whole building burned down,” he tells Kihyun.

Kihyun’s jaw drops, and he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. The proof is in the big bright letters scrolling across the screen: ROTHERA STATION: FIRE IN BONNER LAB. There are details flashing by underneath, but Kihyun struggles to read it, eyes shifting in and out of focus.

“Don’t worry,” Jooheon says. “No one got hurt — it happened overnight, so the building was empty.”

Kihyun looks at the screen again, and gives a more earnest try to skim the alert.

10:32 A.M.

JANUARY 8, 2021

**ALERTS**

WEATHER: -23°C, SUNNY

_ Feels like -39°C. 13 km/h wind. 6% chance of precipitation. _

ROTHERA STATION: FIRE IN BONNER LAB

_ Rothera Station Bonner Lab destroyed in fire caused by electrical fault last night. Aquarium and dive facility destroyed. Laboratory equipment and research records damaged but still somewhat salvageable. Fire alarms went off and supports arrived on-scene at approx. 4 a.m., but efforts to put out the fire were unsuccessful. Flames grew out of control due to dry atmosphere and high-speed winds. _

Kihyun just barely retains what seems useful before turning his attention back to Jooheon. “How’s Minhyuk?” he rushes to ask, not putting too much thought into the question.

Jooheon raises an eyebrow. “He’s fine, Kihyun. Like I said, no one got hurt — ”

“No, I mean — his work, the research. Fuck, it’s all gone. If IceCube burned down overnight and all my hard work disappeared just like that… I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be so upset.”

Jooheon presses his lips into a line. “I know what you mean,” he says. “All the researchers at Bonner lab are suspending work for now until they figure out what the hell to do. I told Minhyuk to come by to Amundsen-Scott for today, so I guess you can ask him about it yourself. He’s on the next snowmobile over here.”

Kihyun gives Jooheon a meek nod and excuses himself so that he can get the coffee he promised Changkyun. He knows once he returns to his lab to resume his work, he’s going to be glancing at the clock every few minutes, anticipating the arrival of the next snowmobile traveling from Rothera to Amundsen-Scott.

“They’re temporarily moving our work to the Old Bransfield house,” Minhyuk tells him. “Just until the end of the season.”

“I’m sorry,” is all Kihyun can think to say. “All your work…”

“We’re salvaging what we can. And we’re gonna try to continue working. But it’s pretty fucked up,” Minhyuk says. “Like, I really… I feel so weird and empty after this whole thing. God, this is bad enough, I can’t even imagine how it must feel to have your _house_ burn down.”

The two of them are in the lounge near the entrance of Amundsen-Scott. Kihyun awkwardly loiters by the doorway, while Minhyuk sinks into the couch, letting out an exhausted exhale. His face is flushed red, still slowly thawing from the extreme cold he had endured on the snowmobile drive over here.

Minhyuk sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “The electrical fault affected Admirals House too, so we don’t have heat in our dorms now. They’re finding us odd places to stay in for now. Thankfully, it’s been a really slow season for tourists, so a lot of visitors rooms are vacant.”

“So where are you staying?” Kihyun asks, heartbeat picking up in anticipation. He doesn’t know why he reacts that way, doesn’t know how to feel about it being so automatic.

“I’m not sure yet,” Minhyuk says, shaking his head. “But I guess I don’t really mind where it is because it won’t be for that long. Just until the next flight back to Christchurch.”

“So, like, the end of summer,” Kihyun says, and it earns him a nod from Minhyuk. “Minhyuk, that’s weeks from now.”

This time feels pointedly different than all the other times they’d talked. All morning, Kihyun had been seeing the aftermath of the fire — mostly painted by melted metal and scorching rubble — in the photos flickering across the television screens that are mounted on many of the walls of Amundsen-Scott.

Kihyun wonders if he’s being too much, if he’s overdoing it with how bad he feels for Minhyuk or something. But the scene had just been so somber, he can’t help it. He takes a chance, hoping it comes off as sympathetic and not like he’s taking pity on Minhyuk, because Minhyuk implied he’d stay anywhere at this point.

“Why don’t you come stay in my room?” Kihyun offers before he can change his mind or take the thought back.

Minhyuk looks up at him, and makes eye contact his time. “Your room?” he asks. “Isn’t it a bit small…”

“I’m trying to help you,” Kihyun says, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Do you not want to accept my help? Because it’s me?”

Minhyuk stands up swiftly and shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. The dorms are small, Kihyun. All of them are. I just don’t want to get in your way.”

“Get in my way?” Kihyun asks. “Minhyuk, I’m literally offering… so you wouldn’t be getting in my way.”

“Look, I know you don’t exactly see me as a friend. You and I aren’t on the greatest terms,” Minhyuk says. “I don’t want you to regret offering.”

Kihyun’s heart falls, seemingly against his will, when he hears Minhyuk’s words. “Well, I’m asking as a friend. Even if we aren’t that,” he says. “I really don’t mind. And there’s no point in us bickering all the time, right?”

A soft smile graces Minhyuk’s lips. “And all this time, I thought bickering was your love language.”

Kihyun rolls his eyes before he even realizes he’s doing it. It keeps happening, he keeps reacting automatically, as if he’s got no control over his body around Minhyuk. Not to mention hearing the word _love_ just as they’d decided to not be at each other’s throats is a little too much. “Maybe it is. But I know the time and place.”

Kihyun digs into his coat pocket and fishes out a key. He tosses it to Minhyuk, who catches it as if he’d been anticipating it. Kihyun raises an eyebrow. “That’s the key to my dorm,” he says. “Room 22. Let yourself in, and you can keep that key. I’ll get a second one from the McMurdo main office later. I’m gonna go talk to Changkyun really quick.”

Minhyuk looks at the key and then back to Kihyun, eyes soft through the whole process. “Thank you,” he whispers, and heads in the direction of Kihyun’s dorm before Kihyun can reply.

Kihyun takes to rapping on Changkyun’s door with far too much force, but not before he watches Minhyuk walk away.

“God, what?” Changkyun yells from the other side of the door. “What do you want, Kihyun?”

Kihyun frowns at the still closed door. “How did you know it was me?”

Changkyun cracks the door open, and he’s frowning too. “You and Jooheon are the only people who come here besides me,” he says. “And _you_ have yet to figure out that I _can_ actually hear you knocking _without_ you nearly breaking the door down.”

Kihyun shakes his head and pushes past Changkyun. “I have to talk to you about something important.”

When Changkyun’s expression softens, and he closes the door and asks, “What is it?” in such a kind voice, Kihyun wonders if constantly bickering but being sincere when it counts really _is_ his love language. The fact that _penguin guy_ has managed to figure that out after only knowing him for a short while makes Kihyun feel a little too seen.

“I’m letting Minhyuk come stay in my dorm,” Kihyun says. “I offered because he hasn’t found a new place to stay yet. Is this a bad idea?”

“What? Kihyun, are you dumb?” Changkyun says. “The Bonner lab burned down, not their fucking living quarters.”

“Minhyuk said that the electrical fault fucked with Admirals House too and now they have no heat in their dorms,” Kihyun explains. “Everyone who lives there is trying to find elsewhere to stay until the end of the season.”

“So… you’re letting him stay in your dorm?”

“Yes?”

“For… free?”

Kihyun frowns. “What do you mean ‘for free’?”

Changkyun raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t like him,” he says. “And I thought you were convinced that he doesn’t like you either.”

Kihyun shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he says. “About how maybe I was reading the situation wrong. And maybe I was being too petty. So, I’m trying to be nice.”

Changkyun giggles. “I mean — you didn’t really have to ask him to move in with you to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be like living together,” Kihyun says. “We hardly spend time in the dorms, anyway.”

Changkyun nods. “I guess. You wouldn’t have to spend all this time in closed quarters. Minhyuk will still be at Rothera all day and just come back here to sleep.”

“Yeah… to sleep — wait, fuck,” Kihyun says as his gaze lands on Changkyun’s messily made bed, eyes widening as if he’s just noticed how small it is even though he sleeps in an exact copy every night just a few doors down. “How are we gonna sleep — Changkyun, there’s only one bed.”

Changkyun looks back at Kihyun blankly, as if the cogs are turning in his head, and then bursts into laughter. “I cannot believe you didn’t at least think of that before offering,” he says between giggles. “Please don’t make him sleep on the floor, Kihyun.”

Kihyun groans, and presses his palms against his forehead. “I’m not gonna do that. I can’t. I was the one who offered up my room,” he grumbles. “Could you imagine if I made him sleep on the floor after the absolute shit day he’s had? He would think I really, truly despised him.”

“So… _you’re_ gonna sleep on the floor, then?”

“Yeah, I mean, what else am I supposed to do?”

Changkyun sighs. “Kihyun, you already complain that the mattress is uncomfortable,” he says. “How will you survive on the floor?”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice now,” Kihyun says. “Anyways, I’m gonna head out now. I have to get to McMurdo Station to get a second key for my dorm. Thanks for validating my decision.”

“I did no such thing,” Changkyun protests. “So, if this turns out to be a bad idea, you can’t blame me.”

Before Kihyun can make it through the doorway, Changkyun stops him and speaks up again. “Wait, why do you need a second key?”

“One for me and one for Minhyuk. I just gave him the one I had.”

Changkyun raises his eyebrows. “Wow, you’re going through a lot of effort just to be nice to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you could just make him knock. But you’re going through the trouble of taking a snowmobile to McMurdo just to get another key?” Changkyun points out. “You hate being outside in the cold.”

“I’m going through the trouble because it’s the only way to get another key,” Kihyun says, sounding exasperated. “Believe me, if there was an easier way, I’d do that instead.”

“Kihyun, the easier way is to make him knock.”

Kihyun purses his lips. “If I’m going to be nice to him, I’m not gonna half ass it,” he says with a huff. “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me.”

Changkyun laughs. “I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you, Kihyun. Anyways, have fun freezing your ass off on the way to McMurdo.”

If not the last word, Kihyun makes sure to get a final eye roll in before he leaves Changkyun’s dorm.

The events of the rest of the day prove Changkyun right — Amundsen-Scott is deprived of Minhyuk’s presence throughout most of the day. He only ends up slipping back into the station after dinner. It’s almost like sneaking in, but it doesn’t really have the charm that usually comes with the act, because the sun is still high in the sky at such late hours.

Kihyun comes back to his dorm room late, too late, knowing that his night of sleep will probably suffer from it. He anticipates Minhyuk will already be asleep in his bed, and they won’t have to have the awkward conversation where Kihyun volunteers himself to sleep on the floor, and Minhyuk tries to stop him out of politeness, and they go back and forth for a bit until Minhyuk takes the bed.

What Kihyun doesn’t expect when he opens the door is Minhyuk sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring right back at him with round doe eyes, as if he’d been watching the door and waiting for Kihyun’s return.

“Why are you still up?” Kihyun asks in a soft voice, quietly closing the door behind him.

“I was waiting for you to get back,” Minhyuk whispers back.

Kihyun tosses his bag on the floor. “Why? It’s late, you should sleep.”

“Where do you keep extra blankets?” Minhyuk asks. “I didn’t want to go snooping through your things.”

“It’s fine, Minhyuk. I’ll get them, just — you can go to sleep.”

Minhyuk arches an eyebrow. “Right now? On your bed?” he asks, to which Kihyun nods. “Kihyun, this is your room. I’ll sleep on the floor — just grab an extra blanket, will you?”

Kihyun lets his shoulders fall limp. This is exactly the kind of back and forth he’d been hoping to avoid. “I didn’t offer up my room to make you sleep on the floor.”

“Kihyun, stop being difficult. I can’t just kick you out of your own bed — ”

Kihyun huffs, crossing his arms across his chest. “Minhyuk, it’s late. I’m too tired to argue about this, I’m ready to pass out. Just let me sleep on the floor tonight and we can discuss it again tomorrow if you want,” he says. “But I’m fucking tired. So I’m gonna sleep now. On the floor.”

Minhyuk frowns. He looks like he wants to argue more, but stays silent as Kihyun rummages through his closet in search of more blankets.

“I still — ”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Kihyun cuts him off, tossing one blanket to Minhyuk, and laying another on the floor next to the bed. He rolls up a hoodie into a ball to use it as a makeshift pillow, and lies down, pulling another blanket over his body and up to his chin.

Changkyun had been right — the floor is infinitely worse than Kihyun’s shitty mattress. He lets out an exhausted exhale, and lies on his side so that his back is to Minhyuk, hoping this will stop him from saying anything more. Kihyun closes his eyes and feigns sleep until it comes true, and just hopes that Minhyuk will accept this arrangement tonight and onwards.

There are a lot of good things about living in Antarctica. It’s beautiful, the research Kihyun gets to do is fascinating, and it’s a one-of-a-kind experience that will surely leave him with many stories to tell his children one day. Perhaps he’ll start with the helicopter ride Minhyuk had taken him and the others on.

But as with most things in life, there’s a side that only shows itself when you take off the rose-coloured glasses. Some of it is the little things — IceCube is starting to outgrow the tiny lab space they’ve been provided. The toothpaste tastes like shit. The library has a copy of every Harry Potter book _except_ Deathly Hallows, so Kihyun has yet to find out how the series ends.

At its worst, Antarctica is cold, isolating, claustrophobia-inducing, monotonous.

And it’s lonely. And that’s probably the one Kihyun has the hardest time dealing with.

Sure, he has Changkyun, and now Jooheon, too. But it’s like he doesn’t even have the opportunity for something more. It’s rare to see couples at the station. It’s almost like dating your neighbour — in the event that you break up, you still have to see them every day, purely by the power of proximity.

But regardless of how living in Antarctica sounds in theory, Kihyun supposes that in practice, it doesn’t matter all that much, because he’s there to work, not to waste time. So, when Kihyun wakes up the next morning with the worst backache he’s ever had in his life, he doesn’t say anything. Despite the searing pain, he continues on his day. Not without Changkyun taking pity on him and giving him a massage when he’s hunched over his desk and suffering, but regardless, Kihyun tries to not let it affect his work.

Kihyun returns to his dorm late again that evening, and ends up having the exact same conversation with Minhyuk as the previous night. They argue some more, but Kihyun’s stubbornness wins out and he sleeps on the floor again. And it happens again and again — and even though Minhyuk seems to fight less than the last time, the argument is never skipped.

On the fifth night, Minhyuk is already asleep when Kihyun arrives — at least, that’s how he appears. He’s lying with his back to Kihyun, facing the wall. It surprises Kihyun a bit, but it’s also way too late in comparison to how early Minhyuk has to wake up tomorrow morning, so perhaps it’s for the best. And Kihyun’s relieved he can just go straight to bed tonight, without the back-and-forth this time.

Kihyun’s back hits the floor with a thud, and he pulls at the blanket, thoroughly tucking himself in. It usually takes him a while to fall asleep. He figures that no matter how many times he sleeps on the floor, he’ll never be able to truly adjust to the hard surface. He lies with his back to Minhyuk, and stares off into space, hoping sleep will come soon enough.

He’s not sure how much time has passed — minutes? Hours? — before he hears Minhyuk starting to shuffle around in the bed. In the quiet of the night, Kihyun can hear Minhyuk’s breaths coming out shaky and restless.

“Kihyun? Are you awake?” A whisper, so soft Kihyun’s not entirely sure if he’s just imagining it.

Kihyun’s muscles tense. He focuses on his breathing, trying to make it sound like he’s asleep, but the pressure he puts on himself to make it sound believable ultimately makes his efforts backfire.

“Kihyun, please.”

The _please_ sounds so vulnerable Kihyun stops breathing entirely.

Kihyun rolls clumsily until he’s facing the bed, peeking his head out from under the covers. Minhyuk is facing him too, and looking back at him with shiny, round eyes.

“What is it?” Kihyun whispers back.

Minhyuk shifts, visibly uncomfortable, and there’s a long pause before he responds. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep — I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Kihyun asks. “I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. You okay?”

Minhyuk shifts some more, tugging at the blanket until it’s wrapped around him tighter. “I just, um.” His voice is weak, hesitant. He presses his lips into a line, the corners ever so slightly downturned.

Minhyuk exhales. “Will you talk to me?” he asks. “About anything.”

Kihyun closes his hands into fists and rubs his eyes. “Talk to you?” he asks, folding his arm and tucking it under his head, trying to get as comfortable as one possibly could while lying on a hard floor.

“Just tell me about something you did today.”

“Well, um. They put up a pool table in the lounge last week? Me and Changkyun checked it out today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We really suck at pool.”

Still with his voice hushed, Minhyuk laughs. “Who won?”

“I truly could not tell you,” Kihyun admits. “We _really_ suck.”

“Anything else memorable today?”

Kihyun thinks for a moment. “I dunno what to tell you… everyday is super boring and nothing happens.”

Minhyuk laughs again. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Thank you, though. I feel better now.”

Kihyun’s eyebrows furrow. “For what? I didn’t even do anything.”

Minhyuk scrunches his nose and almost smiles. “It still helped. I’ll go back to sleep now,” he says. “Goodnight, Kihyun.”

“Goodnight,” Kihyun replies. He’s still a bit perplexed by the exchange but finds that he falls asleep quicker than he’d expected, so he supposes it’s not so bad.

The next night, Kihyun hears the same whisper in the dark. It’s just as timid as the last time.

“Kihyun? Are you awake?”

This time, Kihyun turns around immediately. “What is it?”

“Can we talk again?”

“Okay.”

“Can I go first?” Minhyuk asks. Kihyun nods.

Minhyuk sighs before continuing. “We had to throw away a lot of stuff today,” he says. “Stuff that was destroyed in the fire.”

“I’m sorry, Minhyuk,” is all Kihyun can think to say.

Minhyuk looks down, and most of his face disappears behind the blanket. “It was… it felt like giving up. It was really hard.”

Kihyun shuffles, propping himself up by the elbows. Minhyuk’s breathing stutters, and his lips are pressed in a line. “There were reports and stuff that I didn’t even write but I didn’t want to let them go.”

“I know what you mean,” Kihyun says. “Well — I guess I don’t really know, but… I think I would feel the same if that happened to IceCube.”

“It’s really hard, Kihyun. It’s hard to see all your work destroyed.”

“I know.”

“Kihyun?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you see the blue light yet?” Minhyuk asks. “The radiation thing?”

Kihyun nods. “Yeah, actually — I saw it the other day.”

Minhyuk gives him a soft, crooked smile. “Well, at least one of us is having a better time at work,” he says. “How was it? The light?”

“It was kind of anticlimactic, actually,” Kihyun admits, and Minhyuk hums.

Minhyuk looks at Kihyun, like he’s debating on whether or not to speak up again. “Could you come here?” he asks. “I’m sorry, I — I’m just cold.”

Kihyun’s lips part, in the shape of an ‘o’. “Do you want another blanket?”

Minhyuk exhales through his nose, and thinks about Kihyun’s question for longer than needed. “Okay.”

Kihyun stumbles until he’s standing up, and waddles to the closet to find another blanket. “You’re lucky I’m not built for the cold,” he jokes, pushing past hoodies and sweatshirts. “I have so many blankets because of it.”

Minhyuk laughs, and it comes out muffled from behind the blanket he’s currently wrapped in. Kihyun comes up with the newly retrieved blanket, and kneels down before the bed. He throws it over Minhyuk, pulling the edge up to his chin.

Kihyun sits there, in front of the bed, arms folded over the surface. “Good now?”

“You’re so good at this.”

“At what?”

“Taking care of people.”

Kihyun tilts his head. “I didn’t think I did that.” He thinks about the people he sees the most often — Changkyun, Jooheon, and now, Minhyuk. If anything, Changkyun takes care of _him_ , sticking by his side like he’s another one of Kihyun’s limbs. Jooheon doesn’t seem to need to be taken care of and well, Minhyuk… Kihyun’s not sure if giving someone a blanket when they ask qualifies as nurturing.

“You do it all the time.”

“I do?”

“You stay late at the lab so that Changkyun doesn’t have to — he told me that,” Minhyuk explains. “You go everywhere with him, even if you don’t want to.”

Kihyun’s forehead creases in thought. “I do that because he’s younger than me,” he says. “I feel responsible for him.”

“When Jooheon was nervous about the helicopter ride, you calmed him down,” Minhyuk continues. “You were so nice to him. You were so good.”

“That was nothing,” Kihyun says, shaking his head. “I barely did anything.”

“I feel like that was the first time I saw the _real_ you,” Minhyuk says, which makes Kihyun’s mouth fall open involuntarily. “And I didn’t get to see it again until you slept on the floor for a whole week just because you wanted me to have the bed. And I was like wow, this is Kihyun, and he’s so good at taking care of people.”

“You’re my guest,” Kihyun says softly. His heartbeat feels dull against his chest, like it hurts.

“And you do it even though you’re not the fondest of me.”

Kihyun looks down and picks at a loose thread on the blanket. “Don’t say that,” he says, voice still soft, like it’s going to crack.

They stay where they are for a while, for longer than they need to. There’s a moment of silence, and Kihyun’s eyes are adjusting more and more to the darkness of the dorm as the moment goes on. Minhyuk looks exhausted, but not like he simply just needs sleep — the weight of the day shows in his expression, and in his tired, shining eyes.

The moment persists until Kihyun speaks up. “You okay to go back to sleep now?”

“Kihyun, could you, um,” Minhyuk starts. He licks his lips, and it’s as if he’s unsure if he should continue, even though he’s already gotten this far. Kihyun feels like he’s being pulled towards Minhyuk, in anticipation. “Will you come up to the bed?”

Kihyun leans back a bit, confused. “What?”

“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor anymore.”

“But I don’t want to make _you_ sleep on the floor — ”

“We can share,” Minhyuk says, stopping Kihyun midsentence. “We’ll share the bed.”

Kihyun opens his mouth just to close it, unsure of what to say. He finally settles on “Are you sure?”

“I know we’re not best friends or anything, but,” Minhyuk says. “We’re like, roommates now? Right? And it’s okay with me, so, if it’s okay with you too, please share the bed with me. Please don’t sleep on the floor anymore.”

When Kihyun doesn’t respond right away, Minhyuk lets out a soft, strained, “ _Please_ ,” like he thinks Kihyun will say no.

Kihyun gives a faint nod, and silently rises to his feet. Minhyuk shifts over to make room for Kihyun, and holds the pile of blankets up for Kihyun to crawl through, and that’s exactly what he does. The two of them shimmy around, trying to get comfortable, and end up facing each other.

Kihyun attempts to leave a modest amount of room between them, settling near the edge of the bed. He’s nearly falling off — if a gust of wind were to find its way into the dorm, he’d be knocked right to the floor.

Minhyuk seems to notice this, so he pulls in Kihyun’s sleeve. And though Kihyun hesitates for a fraction of a second, he concedes and lessens the gap between them.

“Goodnight, Kihyun,” Minhyuk softly whispers before letting his eyes fall shut.

“Goodnight,” Kihyun says back. He quietly adds, “And thank you for saying so many nice things about me,” but it’s barely audible, and he’s not sure if Minhyuk hears.

Beside Kihyun, Minhyuk’s body is so warm, as if it’d been producing heat all on its own. Kihyun wonders if Minhyuk had needed the second blanket at all.

Going forward, Kihyun stops coming back from work so late, and he stops sleeping on the floor, too. The mattress seems softer somehow, with Minhyuk lying on it beside him.

And Kihyun gets so used to Minhyuk’s warmth, he’s not sure how he’d been living without it all this time.

❄

One night, Minhyuk whispers a question in the dark — this time, he’s not just asking if Kihyun’s still awake, it’s more than that — and Kihyun wonders if he’s not the only one who thinks there’s something lonely about Antarctica.

“Kihyun? Are you awake?”

Kihyun hums, vaguely nodding his head.

“Will you touch me?”

This time, Kihyun _is_ actually halfway asleep though, with heavy eyelids and his cheek squished up against the pillow. He stirs and rubs his eyes when he hears Minhyuk’s voice, and lets out a “hm?” that comes out croaked from his drowsiness.

“Kihyun, please.”

Kihyun gives another shot at forcing his eyes open. He squints at Minhyuk, and is barely able to make out the outline of his face in the dark, but the vulnerable lilt of his voice is loud and clear. Like he’d cry right then, like it’s on the verge of fracturing.

“Touch you?” Kihyun repeats, hardly comprehending the request, despite being awake now. “You okay?”

“Just hold me.”

“Okay.”

They’d been lying facing each other, and Kihyun shimmies forward to close the gap. The action comes so easily, like there’s a magnetic pull between them. Kihyun lazily throws an arm over Minhyuk’s body, and Minhyuk shuffles so that his head is tucked under Kihyun’s chin.

“What’s wrong?” Kihyun asks.

“Work sucks,” Minhyuk mumbles against Kihyun’s chest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

Kihyun’s fingers travel from where they’re brushing Minhyuk’s back, up and into his hair. It happens naturally, automatically, like a reflex. He runs his fingers through, feeling the softness of Minhyuk’s hair against the pads of his fingers. Minhyuk seems to relax under the light touch, and breathes out through his nose. Kihyun feels it, and it’s warm against his skin.

“Do you ever feel lonely, Kihyun?” Minhyuk asks, voiced dripping with fatigue.

“Lonely?”

“Yeah. Like here, in Antarctica.”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Me too,” Minhyuk sighs, almost asleep. “I’m glad I have you at least.”

Kihyun blushes, and decides it’s just Minhyuk’s exhaustion talking.

Minhyuk seems to fall back asleep much easier now, his breathing coming out steady and clean, like it’s his first breath after suffering through the sleepless nights brought on by a cold.

“Goodnight, Minhyuk,” Kihyun hums, voice melting into the peaceful silence.

“Kihyun? Are you awake?”

Somewhere along the line, Minhyuk had stopped asking the question, but still found himself tangled up in Kihyun’s arms each night. It’d become their routine — Minhyuk’s head tucked into the crook of Kihyun’s neck — and even for someone like Kihyun, who likes routines because they feel the same every time, this routine with Minhyuk grows on him each time it happens.

It’s a very simple routine, which makes Kihyun like it even more. In comfortable silence, they snuggle up against each other, limbs fitting together perfectly.

It’s rare for Minhyuk to say anything, but it always seems like he wants to. Kihyun doesn’t push Minhyuk, though, and just silently hopes that if there _is_ something wrong, that Minhyuk will eventually trust him enough to tell him.

It happens sooner than expected. “I’ve started making new copies of some of my lab notes,” Minhyuk admits. “Some of them had burned edges. And I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke.”

“Oh?” Kihyun’s fingertips flutter across the soft fabric of Minhyuk’s sweatshirt.

“Hyungwon — my lab partner — says I’m just imagining it,” Minhyuk mumbles. “The smoke. It was really bad on the first day. I swear I can still smell it, but he says it’s probably just because I’m so stressed.”

Minhyuk’s words blur together, a clear indication of fatigue, and what he’s saying only makes half sense to Kihyun. Regardless, Kihyun listens intently with furrowed eyebrows.

“I think it’s kind of unfair,” Kihyun says, lips in a pout. He runs his hand down Minhyuk’s back, hoping it gives off the soothing affect he’s going for. “It’s unfair that they’re forcing you to keep working with everything that’s happened.”

Minhyuk gives a small sigh. “They don’t want this season to go to waste,” he says. “It’s gonna take ages for Bonner to get rebuilt. Maybe a year. They’re trying to minimize on how much time gets wasted, I guess.”

Kihyun huffs, but his frustration doesn’t last, as he has a small realization. “You can’t come back next season then, can you?” he asks, and he feels his heart fall a little. “Not until the building gets rebuilt.”

Minhyuk tries to shake his head, and it results in him nuzzling his forehead against Kihyun’s chest. “I can’t come back to Bonner next season. But I think I want to transfer to McMurdo. To their Penguin Ranch.”

“Penguin Ranch?”

“Yes.”

“As in, a ranch for penguins?”

Minhyuk tilts his head up, to look at Kihyun. He raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Kihyun giggles softly. “So, you’d be a penguin farmer?”

Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “It’s just the name. I’d still be doing research there.”

Kihyun hums. “I guess I can go back to calling you ‘penguin guy.’ I always liked it more than ‘whale guy.’”

Minhyuk purses his lips in confusion. “Penguin guy?”

Oh, fuck. “Oh that’s — that’s what I called you in my head. You know, when we hated each other,” Kihyun admits. He’s thankful that the rosy blush appearing on his cheeks is indiscernible in the dark. “But then I switched to ‘whale guy’ when I found out that you’re… you know. Actually a whale guy.”

“I see.”

“Actually, I didn’t just say it in my head — I called you that around Changkyun, too.”

Minhyuk looks up at Kihyun again, and Kihyun can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “Well. At least you said ‘hated’ in past tense.”

Kihyun’s forehead creases. “Of course it’s past tense now.”

“I just wanted to be sure.”

“We’re literally cuddling, Minhyuk.”

Minhyuk looks around, past Kihyun’s shoulder, looking anywhere but Kihyun’s eyes. “Did you hate me? Like actually _hate_ me?”

Kihyun winces at the word. Though he’d been saying it in his head, and even out loud a couple times, it somehow feels like a blow to the gut when it’s posed in a question, in Minhyuk’s hushed voice. “I don’t know… I was really annoyed,” he says. “Really fucking annoyed the first time we met.”

“Just because I said aliens aren’t real?”

Kihyun huffs. “Yes. I feel very strongly about space,” he says. “And you _were_ kinda rude. You laughed at me.”

“Ah, yeah. I shouldn’t have laughed at you,” Minhyuk admits. “But like, I didn’t think it would leave such an impression on you? I thought you’d forget about it by the next time I saw you.”

“Then why did you — literally the next time we saw each other — you asked if I saw any aliens at work.”

Minhyuk purses his lips, expression changing as the memory comes to him. “I was just teasing you,” he says softly. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. “I thought you’d think it was funny.”

Kihyun thinks back to that day in the galley, the second time he’d ever spoken to Minhyuk. Usually, as a result of blind rage, all Kihyun would remember about that day is Minhyuk bringing up aliens again and interrogating him about his job and getting under his skin. But as he replays it again… the lines aren’t so harsh. Minhyuk was just asking him about his job mostly, making small talk. He teased Kihyun about the paper he’d write one day to document his extra-terrestrial discoveries.

Kihyun plays the memory again, stopping and rewinding the tape until he can make sense of it. He skips forward to other scenes — when Minhyuk found him at the music room, when Minhyuk took them on a helicopter ride. And he remembers what Changkyun told him.

_I feel like you might be getting the wrong idea._

Kihyun hits fast-forward with his eyebrows furrowed and his breath caught his throat. He does so until he reaches the part of his memory that stores Minhyuk asking him to come up to the bed, asking for a touch, and kept asking until he didn’t need to anymore, until Kihyun’s arms automatically found their way around Minhyuk’s middle.

Kihyun, with his heart beating up in his throat, finally asks, “Was I getting the wrong idea?”

“About what?” Minhyuk asks.

“About you.”

Minhyuk shifts in the bed, not really moving, just ruffling the sheets just to give himself something to do. “What do you mean?”

“Did _you_ hate _me?_ ” Kihyun asks.

“Admittedly, I thought you were a bit ridiculous for saying aliens are real, and also for caring about it so much,” Minhyuk says. “But I didn’t _hate_ you… I don’t think. I mean. We just have this — _thing_ , you know? We tease each other. We annoy each other. Is that hatred?”

Kihyun vaguely shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know what we are,” Minhyuk admits. “Like, I don’t know if we’re friends or if you’re my friend of a friend. Or maybe we’re just two people that know each other and bicker just for the hell of it. All I know is that once we started, we didn’t stop.”

Kihyun hums and nods his head. “I think I…” he starts, pretending to search for the words but really just stalling what he knows he should say. “I overreacted about the aliens thing.”

Minhyuk looks up, eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Kihyun sighs. “I never really stopped to think about it. But I’m thinking about it now… and god, it’s so stupid,” he says. “I built it up so big in my head for no reason. It’s just _aliens_.”

Minhyuk laughs, and the sound nearly chokes on its way from his lungs to the air. “Just aliens? I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

Kihyun giggles at the thought, too. “Well, I think it’s about time I admit to that,” he says. And then, he figures he’s already gotten this far with his honesty, he may as well keep going. “And to be honest, I think I was just… so mad that someone like _you_ disagreed with something so… fundamental. The only way I was gonna get over that was by holding a grudge against you.”

Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “Aliens are not fundamental.”

“Yes they are!”

“Wait — what do you mean, someone like me?”

Kihyun’s breath catches in his throat, feels his heart stopping for a beat. He has to say it now, he’s gotten to a point so deep in their confessions that there’s no turning back. “At the basketball game, I thought you were cute,” he says. “When I came up to you and Jooheon after the game, I wasn’t there to talk to him — I was there to talk to you.”

Minhyuk looks up with wide eyes. “What?”

“Yeah. And when you said that you didn’t believe in aliens it was like the fucking glass broke,” Kihyun goes on. “You know when you meet someone and eventually you come to find out their one flaw that just ruins the whole person for you? It felt like I got to that part in like, the first five minutes of knowing you.”

Minhyuk snorts. “Wow, aliens really are fundamental for you.”

“My heart really betrayed me for letting me fawn over a guy who doesn’t believe in aliens,” Kihyun says, feeling embarrassed for laying out his thought process like this, and then realizing that it sounds absolutely ridiculous. “I had to hate you to make up for that.”

Minhyuk looks at Kihyun, like he’s searching Kihyun’s face for something more, like he’s trying to peek between the lines of Kihyun’s confessions. “You said you thought I was cute? When you saw me at the basketball game?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes. “Is that all you got out of everything I just said?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Yes, I thought you were cute,” Kihyun admits, but not without groaning dramatically first.

“And what do you think now?”

Kihyun’s cheeks fall back into a rosy hue, and he finds himself thanking the darkness of his dorm a second time that night for concealing it. Minhyuk’s gaze doesn’t falter, still searching Kihyun’s expression desperately for the answer, as if the anticipation is keeping him at the edge of his seat.

“Kihyun,” Minhyuk breathes. “What do you think of me now?”

“Well, you’re in my arms, aren’t you?”

Something shifts in the air as soon as the words escape Kihyun’s lips. Minhyuk’s lips part slowly, forming the shape of an ‘o.’ There’s a long stretch of silence between them. For a third time, Minhyuk’s round, sparkling eyes survey Kihyun’s face, looking and searching, probably wondering if what he’s about to say next is okay.

“I don’t know if I’m just completely in over my head right now,” Minhyuk says, only stopping to lick his lips. “But will you kiss me?”

Kihyun’s eyes widen, taken aback by Minhyuk’s forwardness but grateful for it all the same. And Kihyun opts to give his answer through his actions, rather than through words. It’s not like his body is giving him much of a choice anyway — as always, it’s like his body has a mind of its own when he’s around Minhyuk, and his reaction is automatic as ever. He shifts his body so that he’s half hovering above Minhyuk, blinks down at his lips, and closes the gap between them.

When Kihyun kisses Minhyuk, it’s clumsy, and his lips don’t catch Minhyuk’s perfectly in the darkness of the room, but neither of them mind. Just at this, Kihyun can feel butterflies from his stomach, all the way up to his throat. For a brief second, Kihyun wonders if this kiss will be just that — a short, gentle kiss — or something more. He brings a hand up to Minhyuk’s face, thumb running along his cheeks, tracing his jaw.

Kihyun pulls back, but keeps his face just a breath away from Minhyuk’s. And this time, they both rush forward into another kiss. This one feels different from the first, as Minhyuk’s lips part further, and invitingly so. It’s hesitant at first, but when Kihyun does the same, it sparks Minhyuk’s motivation to deepen the kiss. With their lips slotted together greedily, Minhyuk lets out a soft whine. Kihyun’s nimble fingers grasp at Minhyuk’s sweatshirt, and he clings on as if to keep himself grounded.

As Kihyun’s lips depart from Minhyuk’s, not a moment is lost before they’re hitting Minhyuk’s jaw, leaving little kisses all along his jawline, and a few down to his neck. The feeling is more and more urgent each time his lips meet Minhyuk’s skin, leaving Minhyuk sputtering and near breathless underneath him. Everything about it feels eager, and like all the pent-up frustration has finally managed to break through and rush in, in the form of vehement kisses.

“I think it’s pretty clear by now that I feel the same way about you,” Minhyuk says in a heady voice. “God, when you offered to let me stay in your room, I almost fucking died, Kihyun.”

Kihyun just hums as Minhyuk’s words skate by his ears, and he continues to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down Minhyuk’s neck until he reaches the junction between Minhyuk’s neck and shoulder.

“When you came up to me after the basketball game, I was like fuck, this is my chance,” Minhyuk continues. “I even showed up to Amundsen-Scott, pretending like I wanted to hang out with Jooheon, but I was just looking for you.”

Minhyuk’s breathing stutters some more, until he lets out another hushed whimper. The sound is so intoxicating, Kihyun can hardly register the events Minhyuk is trying to recall, as if every moment between them up to now — good and bad — has melted away into their sudden passion.

“That’s very sweet, Minhyuk, but,” Kihyun manages between kisses. “ _Please_ stop talking.”

It seems to shut Minhyuk up immediately, and he just reels at the feeling of Kihyun’s lips on his skin instead. Minhyuk’s hands roam all over Kihyun’s body, wherever he can grab onto, and Kihyun sighs against Minhyuk’s neck at the sensation. Finally, Minhyuk’s hands settle in Kihyun’s hair, managing to tangle his long fingers up in it entirely. Feeling restless, Kihyun returns his lips to Minhyuk’s, and catches Minhyuk’s bottom lip between his teeth.

The blanket has been slowly falling down Kihyun’s shoulder, and Kihyun shoves it off the rest of the way. Without the blanket, Kihyun feels the cool air hit him, sending a shiver straight to his bones. He’s holding himself up above Minhyuk, palms resting on the mattress and on either side of Minhyuk’s shoulders. He exhales, and it comes out shaky, and he looks down to Minhyuk’s face. In the dark, it’s hard to tell, but he wonders if Minhyuk’s cheeks are as flushed as his own.

“It’s late and everyone’s sleeping — so we shouldn’t do too much or be too loud,” Kihyun whispers, and his entire body shivers. “But do you want to keep going?”

Minhyuk nods fervently, and so they make out lazily in the dark some more, until their lips melt into each other. Minhyuk’s head lifts up and off the pillow, wanting and needing to be closer to Kihyun, more than physically possible.

As much as Kihyun would deny ever thinking about the oh so annoyingly cute wildlife biologist who doesn’t believe in aliens as he’s falling asleep, he may just admit that the real thing is better than anything his dreams have ever consisted of.

Kihyun finds the nerve to slide his hand up Minhyuk’s sweatshirt. His palm sits flat against Minhyuk’s stomach, and the skin beneath his fingertips is hot to the touch.

“Is this okay?” Kihyun asks, lips lightly brushing over Minhyuk’s. The question earns him another nod from Minhyuk.

Kihyun’s fingers curl slightly so that his fingernails are touching Minhyuk’s skin, and he feels restless, wanting more, wanting to hold onto something. He experimentally lets that something be the waistband of Minhyuk’s sweatpants, and lets his fingers just stay there, as the fabric sits snugly in his grip.

Minhyuk seems to respond well to that, with a content hum that escapes his throat. Kihyun experiments further, this time slotting a leg between both of Minhyuk’s, slowly but surely testing the waters. He pushes forward slightly, and nearly smiles against Minhyuk’s lips at the recent discovery — that Minhyuk is hard, and by Kihyun’s doing, too. Kihyun stays as he is, not wanting to get too ahead of himself.

Minhyuk pulls back from Kihyun’s lips and shifts restlessly. “Come on, Kihyun,” he says. “Keep going, please.”

The corner of Kihyun’s lip lifts in a crooked smirk. “What do you want me to do?”

Minhyuk lets his head fall back, hitting the pillow below. “If I had no shame — which I _don’t_ , for future reference — I’d say I want you to fuck me,” he says. “But I feel like you’d say that’s ill-advised right now.”

“You’re right, I would say that,” Kihyun says, tone as even as possible while trying to process the fact that Minhyuk is underneath him and shamelessly asking to be fucked. “Want me to suck you off instead?”

Minhyuk’s head sinks further into the pillow, and he screws his eyes shut. “God, yes. Please.”

When Minhyuk goes to sit up a bit straighter, Kihyun swears this is the fastest he’d ever seen the man move. Minhyuk kicks across the mattress, until he’s sitting upright. Kihyun gives Minhyuk a light smile before using one hand to push Minhyuk’s sweatshirt up, and the other hand to tug at Minhyuk’s pants. He then puts both hands to work to pull Minhyuk’s pants clean off his legs. Kihyun sits up on his knees, sitting between Minhyuk’s legs, and admires the prominent tent in Minhyuk’s boxers. He glances back up to Minhyuk, and Minhyuk looks like he’s about to combust.

And while Kihyun _could_ just rid of Minhyuk’s boxers, he decides it might be a bit more fun to tease first. He palms at Minhyuk’s erection, excruciatingly slow, dragging his hand along. Minhyuk huffs, trying to sound frustrated at the action, but is betrayed by the blissful lilt that escapes.

They both know they need to be quiet, because the walls are thin, and Minhyuk is doing mostly an okay job, biting down on his bottom lip for moral support more than anything else. But as Kihyun teases him, agonizing and slow, the urgency in Minhyuk’s voice is clear. “Jesus Christ, Kihyun, are you kidding me,” he says, gasping in the process. After a few more seconds that feel like a century each, Minhyuk manages, “Suck me off already.”

At that, Kihyun wastes no time, and takes to pulling Minhyuk’s boxers off, too. Minhyuk, impatient as ever, jolts to push his hips up and off the bed to aid the action.

Minhyuk’s cock is fully in sight now, and hard against his stomach. Kihyun nearly drools at the sight, and promptly decides that he doesn’t want to waste any more time. He wraps his fingers around Minhyuk’s cock, lingering for a moment before guiding it towards his mouth. In one swift movement, he ducks down to take Minhyuk’s cock into his mouth, and quickly moves his hands to anchor them at Minhyuk’s hips.

Minhyuk gasps at the feeling, dick twitching in Kihyun’s mouth. Kihyun hums and gets to work, letting his facial muscles relax around Minhyuk. Though he tries to focus on sucking the tip at first, he quickly grows impatient and takes Minhyuk’s cock in its entirety, eyes fluttering shut. Kihyun’s hands find their way up to the base of Minhyuk’s cock, and they chase the lazy bobbing motion of his head. And all throughout, he’s rewarded by the lewd sounds escaping Minhyuk’s mouth, dripping with desire.

When Kihyun blinks his eyes back open, mouth still in its place, he looks up at Minhyuk, who’s already starting to look blissed out.

“Shit, Kihyun,” Minhyuk mumbles, swallowing a puff of air. Kihyun stares at the up-and-down motion of Minhyuk’s adam’s apple. “Feels so good — _fuck_.”

Kihyun pulls off just to ask, “Doing okay?”

Minhyuk looks at him like he’s appalled the question’s even being asked. “ _Fuck_.”

Kihyun almost smiles to himself. He’d like to think he’s pretty good at sucking dick, and surely any of his previous recipients would co-sign on that idea. But none of them are as encouraging as Minhyuk is, which just makes Kihyun’s shoulders feel even taller.

Kihyun licks along the length of Minhyuk’s cock, stopping to give some attention to the slit at the head of Minhyuk’s cock, too, before closing his lips around it again. His tongue doesn’t let up, and the whimpers and moans that Minhyuk’s continuing to let out just drive him to be unkinder, to leave Minhyuk squirming beneath him. Minhyuk keeps mumbling incoherently, alternating between profanities and God knows what else. Kihyun can hardly make sense of it in his unbreakable concentration.

Minhyuk’s hands mindlessly try to find Kihyun’s hair, and once they’re successful, they grip onto fistfuls of Kihyun’s locks. A pulse courses through Minhyuk’s dick, with pleasure following close behind, and he tugs at Kihyun’s hair. A raspy moan sounds in Kihyun’s throat, but it doesn’t have the chance to escape his lips, as they’re still wrapped around Minhyuk’s cock.

The heat between them is unmatched, a single strike of a match in all of Antarctica’s bleak expanse.

“Oh my god,” Minhyuk chokes out. “I’m gonna come — _fuck_ , Kihyun, I’m close.”

Kihyun pulls off for a moment, hands replacing his mouth. “Come for me,” is all he says before resuming.

“God, you’re gonna kill me.”

Minhyuk’s hips thrust upwards, chasing the warm and wet feeling of Kihyun’s mouth. His breathing stutters, falling into an irregular rhythm, and Kihyun can tell he’s about to reach his high soon. Kihyun steadies his own rhythm, each bob of his head feeling practiced, like muscle memory, trying to coax Minhyuk into his orgasm.

And when Minhyuk does come, he’s trying his best not to cry out too loudly from underneath Kihyun. He spills into Kihyun’s mouth, shuddering as he does so, and a few weak ropes of white manage to escape as Kihyun’s pulling his lips off, too. Kihyun licks near Minhyuk’s stomach, cleaning up the come that had dripped down.

Kihyun’s breathing heavy at the end of it all, and looks at Minhyuk through his eyelashes. Minhyuk’s eyes are closed, and looks completely blissed out, still reeling.

Kihyun wipes lazily at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and lets out a breathy laugh. “So, how was it?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Minhyuk says, shaking his head but holding back his smile. “Absolutely insane.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was one.”

When they do finally go to sleep, Kihyun sleeps soundly — at least, as soundly as he can manage with the fluttery feeling inside his chest. He sleeps with his head rising and falling atop of Minhyuk’s chest and with his limbs tangled up with Minhyuk’s so comfortably. He tries not to wonder too much if he could’ve had this — Minhyuk’s warm embrace — sooner had he skipped the part where he held a grudge against the cutest player on the Rothera basketball team, because he has it now, and it feels like heaven.

❄

It’s a Friday, which means no matter how hard they try to concentrate, it’s fruitless, and Kihyun and Changkyun just end up goofing off instead. Changkyun’s got his feet perched up on the desk, and he’s spinning a pen between his fingers.

“You went all the way to McMurdo Station — because you wanted dick that badly?” Changkyun asks. He looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into laughter.

Kihyun huffs and crosses his arms across his chest. “Where else was I supposed to get condoms and lube?”

Changkyun’s actually laughing now, nearly falling off his chair in the process. “Not fucking McMurdo — it’s not a _convenience store_.”

Kihyun looks away, fighting with his mind to _not_ conjure up the embarrassing memory. Somehow, Minhyuk had him convinced that the only place in Antarctica to get condoms or lube was at McMurdo, where tons of emergency supplies are kept. Kihyun wasn’t sure if being horny classified as an emergency, but grabbed the next snowmobile over there anyway. If Kihyun could permanently erase from his memory the look on the girl’s face at the main office when he asked the question, he would.

“What’d you do after embarrassing yourself at McMurdo?” Changkyun asks.

Kihyun frowns. “I left, obviously,” he says. “And then I kicked Minhyuk’s ass when he got back to my dorm that night.”

It had turned out that Minhyuk’s lab partner at Bonner — Hyungwon — had condoms and lube in his possession, and Minhyuk had managed to steal some, and Hyungwon was none the wiser.

“God, you are so gullible,” Changkyun giggles, shaking his head. “Anyways. Are you and Minhyuk like… a thing now?”

Kihyun purses his lips in thought. “Yeah, I guess,” he says. “He’ll probably be gone for a bit at the end of summer, but he’s coming back. He’s trying to get a position at McMurdo.”

Changkyun hums. “That’d be good, especially for you guys. McMurdo is way closer to Amundsen-Scott than Rothera is.”

Kihyun nods and glances back to his computer screen. He only manages to look at it for a few seconds before the numbers start to bleed together, and decides he’s probably burnt out for the day. He pushes the keyboard away from him slightly, and looks back at Changkyun, who’s observing him with an arched eyebrow.

“What?” Kihyun asks.

“Remember when you said you hated Minhyuk?” Changkyun asks, sounding smug.

Kihyun can already see where this is going, and he’s not looking forward to it. “I don’t remember that at all, actually.”

“You were calling him ‘penguin guy.’” Changkyun’s making air quotes, and somehow the simple action fuels his smugness even more.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“And then I said that you just wanna get in his pants.”

“If I try hard enough, can I manifest you disappearing mysteriously? Maybe they’ll even make a documentary about it. With the spooky conspiracy theory music and everything.”

Changkyun grins. “I think this is the part where I say, ‘I told you so.’”

Kihyun drags his palms down his face. “You are very annoying,” he grumbles.

“So, was I right? You _did_ just wanna get in his pants this entire time?”

“I wouldn’t say this _entire_ time…” Kihyun attempts, to which Changkyun just raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Okay, fine. You were right, Changkyun. You saw right through my bullshit.”

Changkyun laughs. “I won’t hold you to it,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t think I have any business making fun of you for this when you’ve already been more successful with Minhyuk than I’ve been with Jooheon. And you couldn’t even admit to liking Minhyuk!”

Kihyun snorts. “Do you still shit your pants when he asks how your day was?” he asks, and when Changkyun hesitates to answer, Kihyun just giggles.

He spends the rest of the morning teasing Changkyun about his slow-moving love life, glancing at the clock every so often. It feels like every time he looks at it, the time goes by even slower. He doesn’t realize until he’s back at his dorm, waiting for the door to open, that he’d been counting down the hours until he got to see Minhyuk again.

❄

“Wait, so you don’t know how Harry Potter ends?”

“Why are you asking this right now? I told you that hours ago.”

“You could just ask someone,” Minhyuk says, pausing what he’s doing. “Everyone’s read Harry Potter. Well, I haven’t. But I’m sure Changkyun has. You should ask him how it ends.”

Kihyun sighs. “Minhyuk, I do not want to discuss this right now,” he says, trying not to sound annoyed. “Not when your dick is literally inside me.”

Minhyuk huffs. Kihyun rolls his eyes, because this is ridiculous — he’s on all fours and Minhyuk’s still buried deep inside him, but not moving because he’s stopped to talk about god damn _Harry Potter_. And Kihyun’s about to complain again, but Minhyuk’s suddenly bucking his hips back and thrusting forward again, fucking him mercilessly like it’s nothing, and Kihyun almost faceplants into the mattress.

Kihyun’s irritation dissolves immediately and is replaced with overwhelming pleasure as Minhyuk adjusts his angle ever so slightly, just enough so that he’s hitting Kihyun right on his prostate. Kihyun tries to say something about how good it feels, or for Minhyuk to keep going, but it all just tumbles out as incoherent babble. He knows he’ll be reaching his orgasm soon, and he’s never been the best at holding out when it gets to this point.

“Doing okay?” Minhyuk asks, not letting up. His fingers press roughly into Kihyun’s hips, probably enough to leave a mark, and Kihyun whines at the feeling. Minhyuk places a kiss on Kihyun’s back, but Kihyun hardly registers the brush of Minhyuk’s lips on his skin, as his whole body feels like it’s radiating heat.

“Feels so good — keep going, right there,” Kihyun sobs. “Gonna — _fuck._ Gonna come soon — ”

Kihyun wraps his hand around his own cock, and clumsily strokes, desperate to get himself off. Minhyuk pushes Kihyun’s hand away to replace it with his own, and Kihyun nearly jumps overboard at just that.

And when Kihyun does come, he comes way too fast for his own liking. In his defense, he lives in Antarctica, and getting good dick in Antarctica isn’t exactly a common occurrence. He gasps as the come spills out all over Minhyuk’s hand.

Minhyuk picks up the pace of his thrusts to chase his own high, falling out of rhythm, and soon he’s coming too, and nearly collapses onto Kihyun’s body.

As Minhyuk discards the condom and takes to cleaning them up, Kihyun silently thanks his past self for soaking some towels in water and bringing it to his dorm _beforehand_ , as he’d rather die than make the walk from here to the station bathrooms to do such a thing right now.

Kihyun throws on a t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers and snuggles into Minhyuk, who’s sitting with his back to the headboard. He wraps his limbs around Minhyuk’s body, laying his head on Minhyuk’s chest. He’s about to fall asleep, and hardly has the energy to say anything more.

And for some reason, Minhyuk feels the need to resume the conversation he’d attempted to strike up earlier.

“Maybe there’s a copy of Deathly Hallows at Rothera,” Minhyuk says. “I’ll find out for you.”

“Thanks,” Kihyun mumbles.

“Maybe they have the movies on DVD in the lounge,” Minhyuk says. “You could just watch the last movie.”

Kihyun drops his jaw dramatically. “I can’t do that! I can’t just mix up the books and movies like that,” Kihyun says, and with so much drama it’s like he’s accusing Minhyuk of blasphemy. “The books and movies are two completely separate experiences and I’m gonna keep them that way.”

“Wow. You take Harry Potter very seriously for someone who hasn’t read the whole series yet.”

“Of course I do,” Kihyun huffs.

“Let me guess — Harry Potter is fundamental?”

Kihyun groans and buries his head into the crook of Minhyuk’s neck, and Minhyuk laughs.

They fall into a comfortable silence, and Kihyun nearly falls asleep again, until Minhyuk’s nudging him gently.

“Your fingers are pointy,” Kihyun mumbles.

“I wanna tell you something,” Minhyuk whispers. “It’s important.”

Kihyun pries one eye open and looks at Minhyuk, whose expression has gone serious. At that, Kihyun forces himself awake, and scoots so that he’s sitting up and next to Minhyuk. “What is it?”

“So I’ve secured a spot at the Penguin Ranch at McMurdo — ”

“Oh!” Kihyun says, eyes brightening. “That’s really exciting — ”

“ — But it doesn’t start until mid-winter.”

“Mid-winter… that’s — ”

“Not until June.”

Kihyun sighs. “That’s almost five months away,” he says. “But I guess it’s as quick as you can come back.”

Minhyuk’s eyes turn round, curious. “Well, that’s why I wanted to ask you — are we, you know. Still gonna be a thing when I come back?”

Kihyun leans back, surprised at the question. “Um. I assumed we would be?” he says. “Unless I was getting ahead of myself — ”

“No, no — you weren’t,” Minhyuk says, breathing a sigh of relief. “I just wanted to be on the same page.”

“We are,” Kihyun says with a confident nod. “We are on the same page.”

“On most things.”

“Most?”

“Not aliens,” Minhyuk says, earning him an eye roll from Kihyun. “We’re on the same page about everything _except_ aliens.”

“Anyways,” Kihyun says. “We’ll still be a thing.”

Minhyuk nods. “I’m not gonna be able to contact you while I’m gone,” he says with a pout.

Kihyun purses his lips, pausing to think for a moment. “We can email?”

Minhyuk snorts. “Even Changkyun’s not desperate enough to send emails.”

Kihyun laughs. “Maybe so, but he does draft them.”

“He _drafts_ them?”

“Yeah, like,” Kihyun starts, already feeling his laughter bubble up. “Whenever it’s slow at work, he always opens up an email to Jooheon and starts typing and then decides it’s too embarrassing to send and closes the window.”

Minhyuk laughs. “You know what, maybe I _will_ email you,” Minhyuk says. “Hm. Do you think it’s against the rules if I send nudes to your company email?”

Kihyun’s eyes widen, and he smacks Minhyuk on the shoulder. “Of course that’s against the rules!” he shrieks. “You’re gonna get me fucking fired.”

Minhyuk laughs again, and his happiness fills the whole room. He wraps his arms around Kihyun and holds him tight, nearly squeezing him. Kihyun tries to feign annoyance, even though he knows he’s not fooling anyone anymore.

❄

There’s a corkboard on the wall above Kihyun and Changkyun’s desks. Kihyun keeps a calendar pinned to it, and crosses off the days with a black sharpie as he goes. It’s easy to forget what day it is when every day in Antarctica looks and feels the same, and doing this makes Kihyun feel like time is chugging along as it should.

For some reason, he’d fallen slightly out of step with this habit. January seems to end as quickly as it came. February disappears before Kihyun even realizes he’d forgotten to turn to its page on the calendar. He thinks maybe it doesn’t really matter what day it is, as long as he gets his work done and is happy — until he walks into the galley one morning, and the alert screen is reminding him of a date that he can’t ignore.

7:15 A.M.

FEBRUARY 28, 2021

**ALERTS**

WEATHER: -36°C, SNOW FLURRIES/PARTLY CLOUDY

_ Feels like -43°C. 17 km/h wind. 50% chance of precipitation, 9.0 mm. _

SCOTT BASE: SHUTTLE BUS DEPARTING AT 8 A.M., FLIGHT TO CHRISTCHURCH DEPARTING AT 11 A.M.

_ Have a safe trip! _

Minhyuk gives Kihyun a soft, sweet kiss before he goes, and pulls Kihyun into a tight hug. With his small, glove-adorned fingers, Kihyun clings onto the thick fabric of Minhyuk’s jacket, and the shivers grow over his skin like ivy. Kihyun’s nose is red and it stings a bit, and while he could blame it on the weather, this time, he fully admits to himself that it’s because of Minhyuk’s effect on him. The biting Antarctic wind could never hold a flame to the light that Minhyuk gives off.

“Goodbye, Minhyuk,” Kihyun mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric of Minhyuk’s jacket. “Wait, I have something to ask you before you go.”

“What is it?”

“Do you still not think aliens exist?” Kihyun asks. “Nothing? Not even a little?”

“Yeah… no,” Minhyuk laughs. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You owe me proof, remember?”

“I guess I do. And I _will_ get it.”

“Because you’re a man of your word.”

“Exactly,” Kihyun says. He shakes his head. “I still can’t believe I’m practically offering the first evidence of extra-terrestrial life to someone who doesn’t even _believe_ in aliens.”

Minhyuk laughs, and Kihyun gives him a final kiss on the nose before he has to turn around and get on the shuttle bus that will take him to Antarctica’s airport.

Minhyuk feels like a bit of an enigma. A rare thing, the kind of light that only comes once in a lifetime. Kihyun knows that tomorrow morning, he’ll have to wake up early, begrudgingly go to work as usual, and wait endlessly for a blue light that feels like it’s never going to come. And because Minhyuk’s leaving for now, Kihyun doesn’t even have a warm embrace to come back home to at the end of the day, not for a few months.

But when the blue light _had_ come a few weeks prior, it wasn’t as spectacular as Kihyun had been expecting. The anticipation he’d built up didn’t pay off. And right now, as he’s huddled beside Minhyuk, it feels like maybe _this_ is the thing he’d been waiting endlessly for. And if he’s waited this long already, he can hold out a little longer until Minhyuk’s fully transferred over to McMurdo and ready to start his mid-winter work term.

And Kihyun decides, that if he were to choose, there’s no other shade of blue that he’d choose over the annoyingly cute wildlife biologist who doesn’t believe in aliens.

During Antarctica’s winter months, there’s no sunlight, and the continent is shrouded in darkness all season long. He knows the winter season will be hard, he’s experienced it before. The darkness and the isolation are ruthless.

But, at the very least, he has something to look forward to, until mid-winter. And maybe it’s small in the grand scheme of things, but it gives him the small push he needs to keep crossing off the days on his calendar, and maybe that’s enough.

❄

Kihyun refreshes the website for what feels like the thousandth time, hoping the article will pop up this time. It’s meant to be released at 9 a.m. on the dot — and it’s already 9:01.

He lets out a sigh of relief when it does finally appear, and only then does he realize that he’d been holding his breath at all.

“Why are you so nervous?” Minhyuk asks.

“It’s my first official interview! God, I hope I sounded smart,” Kihyun whines, and then hits Minhyuk’s arm a few times before he says, “Okay, shh, it’s here, I’m reading it now.”

_ HOME > SKKU MEDIA > SKKU NEWS _

**Sungkyunkwan University News - Research**

Research Team Led by SKKU Alumni Dr. Yoo Kihyun Publishes Results of Study on Extra-terrestrial Life

2032.11.13 | Office of International Relations | Views: 2

**DR. YOO KIHYUN,** Assistant Professor at SKKU's Department of Physics, joins us for an interview.

He recently published an article detailing his study of extra-terrestrial life. His work has been deemed one of the most significant advancements in extra-terrestrial research in all of modern science.

“We haven’t quite proved that aliens exist yet,” Dr. Yoo humbly tells me. “But we’re getting there. It’s the closest we’ve ever gotten.”

Dr. Yoo earned his doctorate degree at Sungkyunkwan University back in 2023. His research focused on neutrino science, for which he completed fieldwork over two winter-over terms at IceCube Neutrino Observatory, a research facility in Antarctica that operates in collaboration with SKKU, among numerous other post-secondary institutions. Dr. Yoo considers his experience at IceCube Neutrino Observatory to be quite formative for him, or in his own words — fundamental.

“My husband and I met for the first time when I was stationed at Amundsen-Scott,” he says. “One of the first things he said to me was that he doesn’t believe in aliens. Naturally, I thought he was insane.”

He continues, “But I owe a lot to him, my husband. He always challenged me to attempt the impossible. To aim for the stars, if you will. He even told me that I’m doomed to be drawn to the impossible. But I think it turned out to be a blessing — rather than some sort of eternal damnation — as my team and I miraculously found what we were looking for.”

Dr. Yoo’s article, _A New Shade of Blue: Extra-terrestrial Life and Intelligence,_ is available at SKKU’s library, both online and in print.

**Author's Note:**

> oh how i love a cheesy ending where it flashforwards to them being in love
> 
> also: the fire in the bonner lab was a real event, it happened in 2001!


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